Immaterium Interference
by SyntheticLegion
Summary: Iruv'Tak Nador comes close to finishing the Ritual of Release, when the Blood Angels arrive, cleansing all in their wake. The Warp is a fickle thing, and now he is stranded on a new world and plane, where Chaos has yet to spread it's taint. It is the clay, and he is the potter. FIRST CROSSOVER - RATED T FOR WARHAMMER VIOLENCE AND OTHER DEVILISH CHAOS SHENANIGANS!
1. Chapter 1: Prologue

"Just a little bit more... A little, bit, _more!"_

" _ **Faith is my shield! Fury is my sword! We are the blades of the Emperor, and we shall know no fear!"**_

Iruv'Tak Nador heard the screams of jump packs. The Space Marines were closing in...

The screech of a chainsword.

The tear of a bolter.

The belching of a plasma gun.

It was drawing closer.

"Slaves of the Corpse-Emperor! Interfere not with my ritual, lest you unleash the power of the Immaterium upon us!"

" _ **DEATH BEFORE DISHONOR! IN LIFE, DUTY! IN DEATH, GLORY! YOU SHALL NOT LIVE TO COMPLETE YOUR WITCHCRAFT!"**_

The Space Marines grew closer, the very ground shaking with their approach. They began cutting down the cultists and thralls that were assisting him in the ritual, the ritual to unleash the Demon upon this world.

Then, he would be rewarded.

"You fools! You know not what you do! You will destroy everything and everyone!" the Sorcerer cried out, a small feeling of fear began to well up in his throat. So close, and yet so far.

A Tactical Marine bull-rushed him. He interrupted his ritual for a moment to send a volley of doombolts hurtling, sending the marine backwards with his armor wracked and destroyed, his internal organs ruptured.

Once again, he was forced to interrupt the ritual, this time summoning a trio of pink horrors to stave off the attackers.

"Just a little longer, just a _little bit more time!_ "

" _Brothers! The Sorcerer is reaching the completion of the ritual, focus all firepower on him!"_

He summoned a psychic barrier to block the incoming fire, bolter shells and plasma shots disintegrating on the force field.

" _Brother Alistair!_ _ **NOW!"**_

Iruv'Tak looked up just in time to see a Devastator Marine line up a shot with a lascannon, aiming directly at the Sorcerer's chest.

"No! You do not understand the magnitude of your-"

His declaration was cut short by the lascannon discharging. A Pink Horror sent a beam of eldricht fire into the Devastator's shoulder, throwing off his aim.

Barely.

The beam of literal incineration seared it's way through Iruv'Tak's armor, and severed his off hand from the shoulder.

And then everything took a head dive into chaos.

Literally.

The warp energies built up by the ritual exploded, throwing Chaos and Space Marines into the air. Suddenly, the warp energies stopped, holding everyone in place.

And then it sucked with the power of a whirlpool, flinging Iruv'Tak into the gaping maw of the Warp, and it sealed itself with a burping noise.

* * *

He awoke in a bush, surrounded by trees.

He regretted not selling his soul to Nurgle. His off-hand arm felt like it was burning him alive.

A quick glance told him it was.

He quickly extinguished his arm, though the nerves wracked his being to no end. He turned off the mental screams that his nerves sent to his mind, allowing him to focus on the task at hand.

 _WHERE IN THE WARP WAS HE?!_

The forest surrounding him was a stark contrast to the reddish sand deserts of Rakkitae, the planet where he had been performing the ritual of release.

Truly, the Lord of Change had a way of... Changing things...

He reached out with his mind, searching for the mental ocean that was the Immaterium.

He found it.

It was not what he expected.

Instead of the normal rolling waves and chaotic essence that the Warp was normally comprised of, he found a peaceful lake, serene, untouched, without the randomness that the Immaterium should have displayed.

It puzzled him greatly. The Warp truly was the home of the Servants of Tzeentch, with it's ever changing ways.

He withdrew from the Warp, and took in his surroundings.

The forest was in a shade of orange and red, seemingly in the season of autumn.

A couple dozen feet away from him, a large pool of water with humanoid frog creatures lay.

The frog creatures turned to stare at him as he walked.

They brandished simple and crude spears and swords, waving them in a hostile manner. The amphibians charged him, all at once bellowing _"Mllaaargmllargmarlg!"_

It amused him. They seemed like an even more primitive species of orks. If you could even GET more primitive than orks.

With a wave of his staff, he sent a bolt of doomfire into their midst, outright melting the wet skin off their bones, flesh turning to ash under the blistering heat.

As the fire winked out of existence, he admired his handiwork. Truly an art befitting a son of Magnus.

"You there! Identify yourself!"

Who dared question the comings and goings of of a Sorcerer of Tzeentch!?

Iruv'Tak turned around, seeing one of the oddest sights of his four hundred year life. Three humanoid beings, vaguely resembling Eldar, and yet, far from it. They had blonde hair, but fiery green eyes. What was even stranger, they had swords and daggers of iron.

"I am Iruv'Tak Nador, Sorcerer of Tzeentch, One of Many Heralds of the Lord of Change! Who are you to question my comings and goings?" He lumbered over towards the offenders, towering over them.

He could see the flashes of disbelief, and then fear, before they put back their facades of resoluteness. He gave them a small feeling of recognition. Not all could stand before a Chaos Sorcerer, formerly Space Marine, and not quake in fear.

"We are guardsmen of Silvermoon, patrolling the outer forest. What business have you in the Eversong Woods?" replied the foremost being.

Iruv'Tak regarded them with cold suspicion. Silvermoon? Eversong Woods? He had delved into the tomes of almost thousands of worlds. He knew of no Silvermoon, or Eversong Woods. Could this be a planet he had never been to? Had anyone ever been here? The Imperium would have cleansed it of what these most certainly were, xenos. The Orks also would have killed everything. He detected no trace of Chaos. The Tau would have shared their technology and spread their "greater good". Only the Eldar seemed most in tune with these folk.

But it could not be a planet, nay, for the Warp was too calm...

Could it be a different plane? One where the Warp has been touched very little?

In all it's ridiculousness, it seemed like the right answer.

"I am... lost." These words were foreign to Iruv'Tak. It hurt his pride to even utter them. "I know not of these lands. What is this... Silvermoon you speak of?"

The three elves glanced among themselves.

"You are truly a being of uniqueness. I have never seen your like. ( _You bet you haven't)_ We shall escort you to Silvermoon. Remember, no funny business."

If this was a new plane, the THINGS he could do! Iruv'Tak's mind bubbled and overflowed with ideas, schemes, plots and more. It was like a giant sandbox, ready for him to mold and shape. The Four Powers had not touched this land yet. The technology was primitive, and he knew not if these beings had any psychic attuning or not.

To them, he may as well be a god...

 _Yes..._

 _They shall be my servants. They shall be my thralls. As Sindri said once... Power, requires Sacrifice._

 _I thank these beings for theirs._

* * *

 **This is my first crossover!**

 **I am good on the lore for 40K, but my WoW is a bit lacking. Most of my knowledge is of WotLK and TBC.**

 **If you feel _ANYTHING_ is on the wrong track, please correct me!**

 **My first crossover, my second fanfic! Do not go easy on me! Make sure criticism is in your every review! Speaking of which...**

 **REVIEWS FOR THE REVIEW THRONE!**

 **-SyntheticLegion, Defender of a Thousand Worlds**


	2. Chapter 2: The Prince of Change - EDITED

Iruv'Tak watched as the beings led him through the forest. He could see the quick glances they shot at him. It was not odd. He was Fallen Astartes, eight and a half feet tall. These mortals knew not the physical and mental power that he sported. The fact that they did not have much of a reaction when he said "Sorcerer of Tzeentch" was enough to ensure him that they knew not of the Ruinous Powers.

Finally, one of them snapped.

"What are you? How have you not heard of Silvermoon? What happened to your arm?"

Iruv'Tak's eyes bore down into the elf, looking as menacing as possible.

She shivered.

"I will answer all of these questions in turn. I am a Sorcerer, formerly of the Imperium of Man. I owe them allegiance no longer. I lost my arm due to a certain _complication_ when the Imperium sent their lackeys to kill me. As for why I do not know of Silvermoon, I can not explain that to you."

"Silvermoon is one of the oldest cities of Azeroth, home of the Blood Elves, formerly High Elves."

Elves? Eldar? It seemed like a close enough similarity. Perhaps these _elves_ were once Eldar?

"We approach Falconwing Square." Another Blood Elf said.

A twig snapping alerted Iruv'Tak of a fifth presence. There was someone there. He stopped moving, and turned to face the sound, his enhanced senses alert. The Blood Elves also stopped, searching for the source. The eyes of the male narrowed.

"Wretched."

Upon those words, the elves drew their swords.

"Wretched? What's wretched?" Iruv'Tak asked. Whatever it was, it was clearly hostile.

"No, Wretched. As in, actual _Wretched._ They are Blood Elves who could not control their magical addiction."

"Do all Blood Elves have a magical addiction?"

"Yes. With the destruction of the Sunwell by the Scourge, we strive to find a new source of magic. If we cannot control our addiction, we become _these._ "

With those words, seven of the said creatures jumped out of the underbrush, brandishing daggers. Three of them were preparing to cast some sort of spell.

"We're outnumbered! Sorcerer, I hope that staff of yours does something!"

Iruv'Tak smiled underneath his skull helmet. "Fear not. These Wretched are nothing. I hope the mages can create some sort of barrier, otherwise this will be far too easy. Stand back, unless you wish to die."

With those words, he began to conjure bolts of change. The Wretched realized that he was chanting, and quickly cast the spell of shielding around themselves. The other Wretched fell behind the shield, waiting for the Sorcerer to finish his conjuration.

With a roar like a tear in the fabric of space and time, the bolts of change charged towards the three mages. The first bolt caught one of the rogues in the chest, while the others found their targets. The screams and shrieks of the Wretched as their flesh melted off their bones was glory to him. Tzeentch would be pleased this day.

The Blood Elves staggered back, the male and the quieter female's faces ridden with horror. The other had a look of... awe?

"You! You are a warlock!" the male said.

"No no no, I am a _sorcerer!_ Big difference!"

"But you use the shadow energies!"

"Shadow energies? Well, I can do a lot more than just cast change bolts."

He slammed the end of his staff into the ground, opening up a portal to the warp underneath the last mage. This portal would lead them into the soft lake that was the Immaterium of this plane, so he guided their being into a small pocket of reality that he sealed so they could not escape. If they did not go insane, they could be used as thralls to be called upon from the Warp. Or he could mutate their being into Pink Horrors of Tzeentch...

The portal closed with a burping noise. The last three Wretched looked absolutely terrified.

"Terrified. Good. You have every right to be." Iruv'Tak grinned as he commanded the vines and limbs of the undergrowth to twist and reshape themselves to wrap around the primal elves' limbs and throats.

"See? I am a _sorcerer!_ Not a warlock. I can do many things. Changing things is my specialty, be it their minds, their bodies, or their souls."

The male elf practically squeaked. "You can change their... _souls?"_

"Oh, but of course! Watch!" Iruv'Tak laid his staff against a tree, and walked over to the helpless Wretched. He laid his hand upon the forehead of one, and began to transfer it's mental being to his little pocket in the Warp. The Wretched began to moan, and then it began to frantically attempt to free itself from the vines, but to no avail. It soon stopped struggling, limp in the grasp of the wildgrowth.

He did the same with the other two, but much quicker. He could do this anytime, so he just wanted to get this over with. Of course, he did very little prevention of pain, and the two Wretched buckled and shrieked under his grasp. They too went limp. He had the vines let their bodied sink to the forest floor, to decompose and add their bodies to the dirt around them. Perhaps Grandfather Nurgle would also smile upon him, even though he dedicated himself to Tzeentch. It never hurt to have the blessing of more than one.

"You... You _MONSTER!"_ the horrified female elf cried out.

"We will _slay you, foul creature!"_ the male shouted. The two of them charged Iruv'Tak, only for their legs to stop obeying their commands.

"You don't honestly think you can kill me, do you? Your courage is to be commended though. And for it, I shall make this quick and painless." He moved over to the prone bodies of the rebellious elves.

The female panicked, and said "No! Wait! You need someone to lead you to Silvermoon! Spare us, and we shall take you there!"

"Hmm. It's a good deal... Let me think about it..." He made a show of him tapping his metallic finger on his skull helm. He stared at the female Blood Elf who still stood in awe, although it was dampened by the fact that her fellows were so hostile towards him.

"Come to think of it, I only need _one of you_ to lead me to Silvermoon. I think your friend here can do it. I have no need of your services."

Even amidst their protests and struggling, he began to siphon their souls into the pocket of warp-space. They soon went limp.

"There now, go to sleep. You shall find your re-awakening to be much less pleasant."

The remaining elf stood dumbfounded. She was confused. She should be furious at this, but the sheer, raw _power_ of this being was both terrifying and amazing. The power radiating off of him was _intoxicating._ He was like a Sunwell in and of himself, only darker _._

She bowed her head when he walked over to her, his strides closing the gap in mere seconds. Her form was dwarfed by his massive bulk.

"You did not charge me. You do not stand horrified and queasy. Why?"

She gulped, and thought about her words. They could very well be her last.

"I know true power when I see it. It flows from your very being, from your very essence. Pardon my questioning lord, but..." She looked at her feet.

"What are you truly? You are no mortal being."

"Your answer pleases me. Yes, I am no mortal being. I truly am immortal." He thought about how he would go about this. He needed to be very careful about his next words. He needed to make a show of

"I... I am the Prince of Change, I have no equal in strength or power. I have come to bring all of Azeroth under my heel. You, you shall be by first servant."

* * *

 **AND SO IT BEGINS!**

 **EDIT: THIS CHAPTER HAS GONE UNDER MAJOR EDITING. MY GRATITUDE TO SKEPSIS FOREVER FOR MY FIRST REVIEW.**

 **He noted that there was very little information about Iruv'Tak himself, even less about him being Astartes. I changed this chapter to give more information about his physical being. Once again, my thanks to Skepsis Forever for the help.**

* * *

 **The Sorcerer of Tzeentch will not god-mode everything, fear not. Even a fallen Astartes cannot withstand some of the things that reside in Azeroth. Note that Iruv'Tak is conceited and arrogant, like most Chaos Sorcerers. The last anecdote was him basically giving himself a lavish title. If you feel I did something wrong, alert me immediately!**

 **REVIEWS FOR THE REVIEW THRONE!**

 **-SyntheticLegion**


	3. Chapter 3: A Sliver of Silvermoon

_You, you shall be my first servant._

These words echoed in the ears of Lyanni Autumnwalker. She didn't know whether to be afraid, indignant, or submissive.

Considering the power of the being telling her what to do, she decided on the latter of the three.

"As you will... How do you wish for me to refer to you as?"

"In private, you will address me as _lord._ In public, for now, as Sorcerer."

"Yes, my lord."

"What is your name, servant?"

"Lyanni. Lyanni Autumnwalker."

"From now on, your name is no longer Lyanni Autumnwalker. You shall be known across the lands as the Herald of Iruv'Tak Nador, Daemon Lord of Change. Of course, until I gain a substantial following, you will keep your name when among those who know you as Lyanni."

"Yes, my lord. I assume you wish to be directed towards Silvermoon?"

"Yes. Do not act in fear so much servant. You are my only follower on Azeroth! Hold your head with regal bearing, knowing that you were the first of the Chosen of Iruv'Tak!"

These words made her spirits lift, giving her confidence that the Sorcerer, no, Daemon Lord would not do away with her at such short notice. Perhaps if she made enough of an impression, he would find more use for her and keep her around. She pointed the way to Falconwing Square, one of the only holdings the Blood Elves had among the western city, after the Scourge had come and gone. They entered the ghost city that was the western half of Silvermoon. They were only a short ways in when they saw a large group of Wretched besetting a trade caravan.

"Remain here. I shall dispose of these Wretched."

She bowed slightly, letting him pass.

"Blood Elves! Do you require assistance?"

She heard the strained affirmations of a few of them.

"Very well. Stand back! I shall wreak my unholy wrath upon them."

With a wave of his staff, he sent a psychic wave rolling towards the Wretched, hurtling some of them back into a portal he had prepared.

With another wave, the building next to the Wretched had the wall facing them explode, sending chunks of rubble into their forces.

The remaining dozen Wretched looked confused and angry. They charged the Sorcerer, casting spurts of fel magic into him. He set his staff on the floor with a _clang,_ producing a psychic barrier, dissipating the fel magic that asserted itself against him. He left his staff there, and shot his hand forward, palm outstretched. A wave of eldricht fire rolled into the Wretched, searing their skin and melting their flesh until they were but ash. Even the carved stone that made up the abandoned road was seared, the heat making the stones glow a dark red.

Iruv'Tak turned to face the caravan, who stood shocked at what they had just seen.

"I recommend finding a different route, for the road will not cool down for a few hours." He choked down a chuckle, as it would only make them more nervous.

What appeared to be the leader of the caravan spoke. "Wha- How?"

"Bother yourself not with the sheer force of my power. I shall simply ask that you direct me to wherever you are going. It would be a shame to escape these Wretched, only to be attacked and killed by more. You are going to Silvermoon, correct?"

A few nods affirmed his notion.

"Excellent. I shall accompany you. I go to Silvermoon to find apprentices worthy of my trade." Iruv'Tak chuckled beneath his skull helm. "My trade being sorcery and warpcraft, that is."

He looked for reactions among the caravan. A male blood elf to the side of the caravan looked back at him, with a determined look on his face, before turning back towards the road.

 _It seems my words did not go to waste. I can sense the psychic presence this one has, and it is not a small one compared to the rest of these "elves". Yes, this one has already made up his mind to join me. He is power hungry. He already teeters of the edge, now all it needs is a simple push.  
_

They trod down the beaten path, eventually coming to a guard house.

"Halt! Identify yourselves!" shouted a guard from the above balcony. The Caravan Leader stepped forward.

"I am Zelmeil Emberwood. I am a Caravan Leader returning to Silvermoon, after I sold my goods in the cities of the Orcs. I have returned safely. I say, Quimeron, is that you?"

The Blood Elf in iron plate above him smiled. "Zelmeil you old fool! I told you it was dangerous out there!"

"But I am still alive, yes?"

"Pah, not when I'm finished with you. Who are your... companions?"

Iruv'Tak stepped forward. "You would not know of me. I am the Sorcerer, Iruv'Tak Nador, The Prince of Change."

The guard looked down on Iruv'Tak with suspicion. "Zelmeil, do you trust this man?"

"With half my life. He saved us from a large raiding band of Wretched. However, as his title says, he uses dark sorcery. Not Fel Magic, but a dark sorcery I cannot place my finger on. I still support his entry however."

The guard softened. "If Zelmeil trusts you, so do I. Soldiers! Open the gate!"

The great iron portcullis slowly raised itself, screeching under the strain. As it reached the top, the band strode into the city, people bustling about their daily lives. More than a few turned to look at the looming eight foot warrior.

"It seems you have attracted quite a crowd, Sorcerer. Ah, Lyanni, you return! How fares the patrol? Where is the rest of your folk?" the Guard, Quimeron, had followed them.

Lyanni struggled. "Th- They..."

Iruv'Tak intervened. "I found her and a male Blood Elf fighting off a band of Wretched. There was already another elf on the ground, scorched alive. As I intervened, the male was overwhelmed. I was able to save Lyanni however."

Quimeron's face darkened. "Terrible beings. Those Wretched are not worthy of the power of the Sunwell, if it ever returns to us. What I would give to simply have it's radiance shining upon us once more, and keep our people from the fate of becoming Wretched. I have noticed a rapidly increasing rate and number of these creatures. I have scheduled a meeting with the Regency to discuss this matter. They may not believe me, so I ask that you provide your word with mine. Perhaps they will see reason if both the Captain of the Guard and a well attributed mage confirmed it, yes?" Quimeron smiled faintly, something Iruv'Tak deemed he did not do often. "I suppose you can come to as well Sorcerer. I have not seen your like in quite a long time, perhaps a few hundred years have passed since I saw heraldry similar to yours..." His voice drifted off like a song into wind.

These words struck Iruv'Tak greatly. Heraldry similar to his? Could a Sorcerer of the Thousand Sons have been here before? He shook himself out of his confused state.

"I do believe that I shall accompany you, Captain. I may be able to be of some use when it comes to these Wretched. Maybe even your Sunwe-" He caught himself. He had meant to go that far, in order to peak the blood elf's interests.

It worked, the eyebrows of the Captain shot up like a shooting star, and he looked like he was going to ask a question, but refrained.

"Very well. I am sure we can come to an agreement. Right this way, if you please."

They took loping strides toward the interior of Silvermoon. A good twenty minutes had passed before they arrived at the Sunspire, a huge stone tower of white and red. Quimeron got the required clearance, and they were on their way towards the meeting chambers.

Even before they arrived they could hear the arguing.

"No! We simply do not have the resources to expand further into the western city! My soldiers are already stretched, and I lose more daily to the Wretched!"

"General, we understand. But Silvermoon is packed as it is! We need more living space!"

 _Pah, politics._ Iruv'Tak was fluent in the lies of politics, but it bored him to no end.

Quimeron pushed the doors open, revealing a chamber laden with golden and blood red carpets and stone of bone white.

"Ah! Captain! It's about time you showed up. Please, explain to these gentlemen how are forces are stretched so." The General, a large burly man (burly for Blood Elves that is) greeted them and smiled. "Who are your companions?" He searched Iruv'Tak up and down, his eyes looking for every weakness that his armor could betray. Except for the shoulder where his forearm once was, he found none.

 _A gifted warrior. I could use his skills._

"These are Lyanni Autumnwalker, one of the most promising of my patrolmen, also a very gifted mage, and I will leave the other to introduce himself."

Iruv'Tak stepped forward.

"Regency of Silvermoon, I am the Sorcerer. The Prince of Change, the Lord of Warpcraft. I am honored to be in your presence." Iruv'Tak's gifted tongue dripped with honey, his words coated in sugar. They had taken affect on the more weaker of the bureaucrats. The General and the Regent, as well as the High Mage, seemed fairly unimpressed. It would take more to convince these men of his importance. Perhaps they suspected him of being some sort of enemy? A spy, perhaps?

The General addressed him. "Sorcerer, where is your forearm?"

"Ah, my arm. I lost it in a fierce battle with a strong foe a couple of days ago. I think I should remedy that." He could see the respect that the General suddenly rendered him. A man who lost his arm in honorable battle and still stand was a man that the General would gladly stand beside. What happened next was completely out of his mind.

Iruv'Tak called upon the reserve of Wretched souls he had siphoned, using their essence to create an arm of flesh, completely in tune with his own form. Tendons and muscles snapped and stretched as the arm grew. He finished off his reserves by recreating the power armor and Sorcerer's Robes that clad his body. He would have to administer the rituals and vile rites to the armor in order to maximize it's efficiency later.

"A powerful mage you are indeed, Sorcerer. Tell me, where did you learn of this power?" The High Mage seemed impressed, but his eyes were filled with suspicion.

Iruv'Tak thought quick. The High Mage was an obviously intelligent man. What was that about Warlocks again? Perhaps best not to use some of the darker witchcraft around Blood Elves, they seemed to have a history about them. He decided to have Lyanni give him a crash course later.

"I found my power in the tomes of the Black Library, the most expansive library there is, filled to the brim with tomes and books concerning warpcraft." This was a half lie. No one had found the Black Library. The Thousand Sons, especially Ahriman himself, spend eternity trying to find entrance. It is said that if Ahriman finds the Black Library, he could decipher the power within, and even turn himself into a new Chaos Deity.

"Where is this... Black Library, you speak of? I have not heard of it."

"I have sworn an oath to the Keepers therein to not divulge it's location to anyone, lest it be forever closed to this realm."

"Very well. Maybe one day you can show me the extent of your power. Do you by any chance own a copy of Okiba's research notes?" The High Mage seemed convinced. Apparently he had some experience with forbidden libraries.

The General interrupted. "Gentlemen, this is not a meeting where you dabble in your magics and witchcraft. This is a meeting on the benefit of our people."

The High Mage seemed affronted by the rebuke, but relented.

Now all that remained was the Regent. Iruv'Tak needed to gain these people's trust. He knew very little of the surrounding lands, and the Blood Elves seemed to make _excellent_ power sources. They all had a psychic presence, sort of like Eldar. Unfortunately, the Blood Elves were like candles to a bonfire when it came to Eldar, but better than the standard human.

The Regent spoke. "I am glad we could all get to know each other. Please, sit down." He motioned to a few seats that sat adjacent to a speaking platform.

"General, I do believe the Captain is to give us a presentation of the military's current status?"

"Yes. Captain Quimeron, if you would be so kind as to fill them in?"

Quimeron bowed. "It would be my honor. I will start off with the rising number of Wretched situations. Just today, we've had over six attacks on assorted civvies, patrols, and caravans. I have delegated forces to sweep the streets of the Western City, from North to South in a vertical motion. There seems to be a concentration in the south-east quadrants, and it is my belief that the Wretched have established some kind of encampment, in order to secure a front near the city, going out and attacking passerby's. As of recent, I have recalled forces from the Eastern City's forest patrols to deal with the growing number of attacks, and even perhaps, with your permission General, organize a strike force and conduct a raid on the supposed encampment, probing it's defenses. I do not, as of now, know if there is actually a Wretched base of operations there, but I strongly believe there is, due to the pattern of sightings we've had."

Iruv'Tak had zoned out until the last part. Military briefings were _so_ dull. If they were conducting a raid, he might be able to convince the Blood Elves to allow him to accompany them. Perhaps he could pull some strings...

The General interrupted his thoughts. "Captain, you have my support. Take as many men as you think you will need, and probe their defenses. If there is an encampment there, then you have my full permission to destroy it. Regent?"

"The safety of our people comes first. Long have we wished to rebuild, and the Wretched simply make it harder for us. Do what you wish, General. Know that you have my blessing."

Iruv'Tak stepped forward. "Honored Regency, if you would allow me to speak." The Regent nodded, so he continued. "I sense distrust among you. Know that I am not your foe. If you wish me to prove myself, allow me to accompany you on this. One thing is certain: You will need many less men if I come with you."

The Regent studied him. He appeared to be in deep thought.

The High Mage spoke. "Regent if I may? I believe that the Sorcerer could be of use here. Allow him to prove his worth." The General nodded.

"Very well. If you think it is wise, I shall permit it. General, strike without remorse. This meeting is adjourned."

"Sorcerer, if you would follow me please." Quimeron ushered them out of the room.

As they walked down the steps, and out of the Sunspire, Iruv'Tak plotted and schemed. He would play with the Blood Elves and the Wretched like puppets on strings...

Quimeron pointed to a large building with steel gates and flowing banners. "Meet me there in eight hours." The Captain promptly walked off, leaving Lyanni and Iruv'Tak in the middle of a bustling street.

"Servant, come. We have much to do."

* * *

 **OOOooOOO. Spooky Sorcery!**

 **If you didn't notice, the last chapter went under some editing. I made a few mistakes, that a certain _Skepsis Forever_ had the generosity to point out. My gratitude to you, good sir!**

 _ **Skepsis Forever:**_ **As stated above, I changed the last chapter to fit more description of the Sorcerer. I made the failboat of rushing out the chapter. Being awake at 3 in the morning does that to you, but fear not! I wrote this chapter at 1: 30 AM! I (think I) have a clear head! I should point out that I changed the title as well, and the last note. I wanted to point out that Iruv'Tak, when he said "Demon Lord of Change", was trying to simply make a neat title for himself to add to the weight and awesomeness of his power. I made the error of not making myself clear enough I suppose. Thanks for the review!**


	4. Chapter 4: Greatness, At Any Cost

Brother-Captain Mikael had finally made contact with a _less_ heretical group of humans. Still heretical, but all he had to work with. He needed access to forges, soldiers, and more. This world was covered in xenos, and, what's worse, humans that _consorted_ with xenos. Had he an exterminatus at the ready, he would initiate it immediately.

But alas, he did not.

He would do his duty, and cleanse this world, _Azeroth_ , as they called it, with the Emperor's Holy Light. He may have been confused at first, but surely it was the Emperor's bidding.

Then, he needed to find that Traitor Astartes Sorcerer.

This, _Scarlet Crusade_ , as they called themselves, would do the Emperor's work.

" _Ave Imperator!_ "

A thousand voices answered.

" ** _AVE IMPERATOR!_** "

* * *

Iruv'Tak was pleased. With the _"help"_ of Lyanni, he had infiltrated the ranks of a guild of mages and other magical based entities. Before that, he had Lyanni fill him in on the history of Azeroth, before he could make himself more... _public,_ if you will.

The Burning Crusade in particular interested him.

Demons, hellspawn, and more. But what was even more exciting, was the knowledge of the _Fel._ He understood that arcane magic was slightly addicting, hence the Wretched, but Fel was practically a drug. It corrupted and consumed.

Perhaps he could use this to his advantage.

The guild in question was situated in one of Silvermoon's many libraries, this one being one of the furthermost out. The members were focused in the recovery of the Sunwell, and generally distrustful. Through Lyanni (and a bit of psychic tampering) he had managed to be accepted within the guild, although he was required to present helpful information and research every two weeks. Most other guilds considered them hardcore.

They were arrogant, distrustful, and power hungry.

A perfect recipe for disaster.

Iruv'Tak knew what he had to do. He required _cultists._

The best way to get cultists were promises of power. Many guilds frowned upon Warlocks, whereas this guild did not, striving to give anything in order to bring back their precious Sunwell.

The Sunwell would be his promise.

He had just gone upstairs in an inn, having procured residence for his stay. He slept very little, but he did require a place to conduct rituals without drawing a curious eye. He used a sum that Captain Quimeron had payed him for disposing of Wretched in the general area for a secluded room on the third floor.

Having reached the room in particular, he went inside, with Lyanni tailing him.

"Servant, I do not require your services for now. You are free to do as you wish for the next five hours." He needed some peace and quiet.

Lyanni skipped out of the room without a look back.

Iruv'Tak reached out with his mind, searching among the many souls for a few in particular. He would start with the guild leader.

" _Quhein Redstar..."_ He would start with an ominous sounding voice, calling out the name.

His mental image showed the Guild Leader, Quhein Redstar, stop writing with the quill he had in hand.

"Did you hear that?" Redstar said to someone obscured from Iruv'Tak's view. "No? Oh well."

" _Redstar! The Sunwell must be repaired! The fate of the people of Silvermoon depends on it!"_

"Did you hear _that?"_ Once again, Redstar looked confused. "No? Hmm... Leave me."

Redstar closed his eyes as he sat his quill down. "Who speaks?"

" _You understand mental conversation? Excellent. Perhaps you are more than you seem. Tell me, Redstar. How far are you willing to go to revive the Sunwell?"_

Redstar contemplated for a moment. "As far as necessary. There are moral boundaries, but they are lax. Why am I telling you this? I do not even know who, or _what_ you are!"

" _I am... a patron, for lack of better words. I see the need for the repairing of the Sunwell. I see your quest, and I see it's end. Choose the correct people and paths, and you may yet succeed."_

"What paths? What people? I must know."

" _I must refrain from telling you too much, lest you make the wrong choices. You do good work, but you are slow. You do not make good progress. You need more avenues of approach, more ways to get what you want, Redstar."_

Redstar frowned visibly, and waved his hand at an invisible person. "I may be slow, but so long as it get's done, even in my death, then I shall be content."

" _But it may be too late! You must choose!"_

"Choose what!? What other paths are there?! I have Warlocks, Mages, Healers, I've even got gnomish engineers and human priests! Though they may be finicky..."

Iruv'Tak loved playing with his prey. " _Perhaps you do not realize that there may be paths that some do not even know of? The Path of the Dark Powers is an avenue that some consider to be... unnatural._ "

Redstar lost his frown. "Finally, some information. What are these... Dark Powers?"

" _I have said too much. I think I shall take my leave."_ Iruv'Tak gambled. He hoped the man took the bait.

"Wait! Surely you can tell me more? It could be the very thing I search for, this information!"

 _Bingo._

" _Hmmmm. Perhaps. This information comes at a price, Redstar. Are you willing to pay it?_ "

"It depends. I must know the price first. I have seen what comes of folk who make deals without knowing the price. Hence the Burning Legion." He spat the name his such vehemence, Iruv'Tak questioned for a moment even revealing the information. The Fel and the Warp were not too far off from each other.

" _The price for the information is simple. Secrecy. Some of your followers may not take as kindly as you to this information._ "

"If it gives me what I need, I will tell no one, so long as there is no hidden card."

" _Very well, Redstar. Simply remember this: I have gone far to help you in your quest, and I endanger myself in informing you of this information."_

"I understand." The man tried to look patient, but it was visible that Redstar was anxious.

" _There are four deities that have existed since the beginning of time. The first is Khorne, God of War. He bestows his gift upon warriors, soldiers, and the battle hardened. The second is Grandfather Nurgle. Nurgle hates to see his children die, and bestows upon them great strength, and sometimes, immortality. The third is Tzeentch, Lord of Change. He is the Patron of Sorcerers and Mages. He is the ultimate tactician, planning thousands of years ahead in order to accomplish his plans. I myself am a servant of Tzeentch. The fourth is Slaanesh, Prince of Pleasure. While others use many forms of combat, Slaanesh prefers to use more subtle methods, luring his foe away, and even changing their allegiance." *****  
_

Redstar thought it over. After what seemed like an eternity, he asked "I am no fool. What is the catch? There must be a price..."

" _The price is simple: Your allegiance. Gifts must be given for more favor to be shown."_

"What kind of gifts?"

" _That is entirely dependent on the Power you choose. Khorne desires the blood of your enemies. Nurgle wishes for bodies to work on, living and dead. Tzeentch requires mental prowess and things of power and knowledge. Slaanesh feeds on... Well, private moments. No price is too great, right Redstar? Even simple prices as these?"_

"You say these powers can restore the Sunwell?"

" _Yes, and more._ "

An anxious silence followed.

"I accept. What must I do?"

* * *

Lyanni was contemplating the many thoughts going through her head.

She was a servant of her people, but she also did not wish to invoke the wrath of the Sorcerer.

What was she even thinking?

Afraid for her own life? This could be the very fate of her people! Her life over thousands?

Lyanni mentally berated herself over her selfishness and foolery. She should have warned the city long ago.

Perhaps it was not too late? Who would she go to, though?

Someone intelligent, someone with _willpower._

Someone wise enough to see through his lies and schemes.

But who?

As she stumbled along the street, oblivious to the comings and goings around her, Lyanni's eyes fell upon the Sunspire.

High Mage Aethas Sunreaver?

It would have to do.

* * *

Redstar watched as his guild members set about on the construction of the dark shrine.

None of them knew of the voices in his head.

But they trusted him. They believed in him.

They trusted that he was leading them down the right path.

The voices had told him an emissary of the Dark Gods was coming.

Then, he would receive instruction. He had been told to look for an eight pointed star. The image burned brightly in his head.

He should have known it would be the nine foot tall sorcerer in steel. At first, when the Sorcerer walked in, he was confused. But then he saw the star.

Then, he understood.

"Sorcerer. Your timing is welcome. The shrine is finishing construction as per request by... the patron."

"Excellent. I think the time has come."

"The time for what, exactly?"

"As soon as I bestow the proper rites upon the shrine, you will swear your allegiance. Along with the rest of the guild members. You will all wear the eight pointed star."

"For those who do not?"

"They will pay the ultimate price."

" _What!?_ B-"

"Word cannot be getting out about our dark rituals, Redstar. We must plan carefully. Besides, no price is too great, am I correct?" The Sorcerer's grating voice had a trace of amusement in it.

Redstar was grim. If it had to be done, it would have to be done. "But I shall not do it."

"Oh, of course not. Leave that to me. Come to think of it, I may have a better price for them. They will not _die_ , oh no. Part of them will, but not _all_ of them." Once again, the voice grated with amusement.

Another voice appeared out of the stairway leading into the rather extensive cellar. "Guild leader, the work is done."

Redstar's face was set in stone. "Good. Gather all of the guild members, I have an announcement to make."

"Yes, Guild Leader." The voice guild member disappeared again, footsteps tracing down the stairwell.

"Well then, let us get started."

* * *

Iruv'Tak had to bend over in order to get down the stairs, but the cellar itself was fairly large. The ceiling itself was about twelve feet above the ground. The cellar floor and walls were made of well carved stone slabs, partially reminding him of Imperial Architecture. The area was well lit, torches and candles lining every surface.

The shrine itself was made of a conglomeration of stone, iron, and marble. They had gone to great lengths to make a shrine of their best ability. This pleased Iruv'Tak.

A familiar voice addressed them. "Redstar, the members are gathered as you ordered."

Redstar turned around to see the guild member standing expectantly. "Excellent. Sorcerer?"

"Of course. Guild Members, what is it you desire most?"

The answer was without hesitation. "The restoration of the Sunwell!"

"What price is there that exceeds the worth of the Sunwell?"

This answer was even faster. "NOTHING!"

Iruv'Tak smiled underneath his skull helm. "I come to you as an emissary of the Ruinous Powers... These powers will restore your Sunwell. But it comes at a price... Are you willing to swear your allegiance to the Dark Gods? Will you pay the price?"

The guild members looked hopeful. One of them, a tall male blood elf warlock, stood up. "What are these... Ruinous Powers?"

It was time for a history lesson.

* * *

Lyanni waited in the shadows outside the office of the High Mage. She had been waiting for at least thirty minutes.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door opened, and the Blood Elf in question walked out.

"High Mage, if I could have a word with you." Her voice cracked in fear. If she made the wrong impression, things could go terribly wrong.

Aethas paused mid-stride, and turned to face her. His face studied hers, and soon an eyebrow went up.

"I remember you. You were in the council meeting." He smiled. "What is it you need?"

Lyanni swallowed. How would she go about this? Better to be blunt, she supposed.

"I'll get right to the point so as to not waste your time. You remember the Sorcerer from the meeting, right?"

"Yes, yes I do. What about him?"

"Do _not_ trust him! He is a warlock if I ever saw one! What confuses me more is how he goes about it. He knew nothing of the Fel when I explained it to him."

"How do you know this?"

Lyanni swallowed. She was going to have to practically point out that she committed treason!

Then it hit her.

It was entirely planned by the Sorcerer! He created it that way! She mentally slapped herself. If she had lied to the Regency, then why would they believe her now?!

Perhaps there was a way around it?

"I saw him using his powers on the Wretched, during the time he battled them, and..." She swallowed again. "Saved me." How she hated herself for using those words!

The High Mage looked thoughtful.

"As of now, I cannot do anything without better proof. I will look into it, however. I do trust you, as much as I would trust a brother or sister. For that is what we Blood Elves are, brothers and sisters."

Well, it was something, she supposed.

"I must be going now."

She nodded, and looked at the floor as he left.

She had done it. She had betrayed the Sorcerer.

Lyanni hoped this would not come back to bite her.

* * *

 **Sorry for being late!**

 **I was contemplating where to end this chapter, and I may or may not have discovered Warframe :P**

 **Anyways, thoughts?**


	5. Chapter 5: Gaze Into The Abyss

Redstar, two other mages, and two warlocks knelt before the Sorcerer. Iruv'Tak had asked for the most powerful amongst his guild, and Redstar had brought them to him.

"Rise, Servants of Chaos." Iruv'Tak gestured with his hand, and they stood.

They were the last who remained in the Cellar. The rest of the Cultists had been dismissed, with orders to recruit new members.

Even if word got out, what would they do to him and his cultists? Nothing they could do would even scratch him.

" _But then again, it's not like I've seen the best this world has to offer._ "

"I have asked for you, because you are the most powerful. I shall teach you the ways of the Sorcerer. Reach out with your mind, what do you see?"

A female mage was the first to speak. "I see an ocean of bright and dark energies, swirling with power."

"What else?"

Redstar spoke up. "I see four other lights, a balance between light and dark. Fast approaching is another light, a combination of shadow and... Is that blood?"

Iruv'Tak smiled. "You see a daemon of Khorne. It is in a bloodthirsty rage, seeking to destroy anything it can. I shield you, so it cannot touch your souls."

"Are you the shadowy cloak that surrounds us?" The Blood Elf that had asked about the Dark Gods spoke this time.

"You see me as a shadowy cloak? Yes, yes that is me. What do the rest of you see?"

"A stone wall."

"A violent wind, blowing the daemon away as it approaches."

"A spiked whip of iron, driving it away when it draws close."

"A mace, inflicting wounds upon it."

Iruv'Tak spoke again. "Yes, yes that is me. I am shielding you from the terrors of the warp and the immaterium. What do you see now?"

After a few moments, the familiar male, (a warlock, Iruv'Tak learned) piped up. "Chains appeared, and wrapped themselves around the daemon. They dragged it into a portal that appeared underneath it."

"Good. Now, open your eyes."

To their surprise, a viscous looking, horned creature was being held in the air by an invisible force. It struggled, but to no avail.

"This is a bloodletter. It has immense strength, some prowess with a blade, and is a daemon that lives for nothing but it's foes blood."

They gasped as it spoke.

"Blood for the blood god..." It rasped.

"Now, I shall simply send it back to where it belongs." Iruv'Tak waved his hands, and the daemon vanished.

The warlocks looked intrigued, while the mages frowned.

"Surely there is more to warpcraft than summoning daemons?" The last mage asked.

"Why of course. There is summoning, rituals, enchanting, and combat warpcraft, to name a few branches. Sorcerers learn a wide variety of powers, but these sum up everything they do. Before we go any further, I wish for your names."

The male warlock spoke first. "I am Draveth Swordsinger, at your service. These are Winten Flamebrook," He pointed to the other Warlock, who nodded. "-Aelamara Darkfall, Scryer Darkfall, and of course, Guildmaster Redstar."

"Cult Master Redstar actually."

They all looked at Iruv'Tak strangely.

"Well, you do realize that once word gets out, you are all going to be referred to as cultists? Better get used to it."

They nodded.

"Now I shall show you how to use your mind to draw upon the warp when in combat. Cultist Flamebrook, draw upon the Void as you would mana. Open your palm, and picture some type of spell."

As he finished, an orb of warpfire shot out of his hand towards the stone floor. He frowned.

"Hmm. You must learn how to control it first. Draw upon the warp again, but project a shield upon the energy you take."

The familiar orb of warpfire once again appeared. This time, it stayed and flickered wildly in his hand.

"Good. Now, as if you were drawing on the warp, shove the warpfire out towards me."

A blazing inferno erupted from his hand, shooting towards Iruv'Tak, who promptly put up a psychic barrier.

"Very good. Now, I want all of you to do the same. Once you have the weapon of choice prepared, I want you to attack me all at once."

They looked at each other uncertain, but nodded. Very soon doombolts and warpfire floated in their hands.

"Fire."

All at once, a cone of fire and a volley of doombolts came at him. The psychic barrier deflected the warpfire, but he let the doombolts pass, redirecting them into the stone floor. Two craters marked their destruction.

"Very good. You all learn quickly."

So the hours passed, hour after hour. He taught them enchanting, which they took to very quickly. These servants would be his lieutenants in this city, making sure everything ran smoothly.

He was making good time.

The hour eventually reached nearby when he was to meet with the Captain of the Guard, and so he departed, after leaving them orders.

How easily, how quickly they had fallen under the influence of Chaos. Half of it he attributed to their desperation and ambition, the other half he attributed to his hundreds of years of experience. He'd forgotten the last time he counted his years, stopping around 800 or so. It had definitely been a while since he had last counted from 800...

He began to think on his plans.

Should he try and summon the daemon prince here?

Why? Why should he summon someone to lord over _him,_ when he could lord over everything that chaos touched, here!

No, he would not summon the daemon prince.

But what about the rewards from the Daemon prince?

No, he could get them for himself. But how?

His thoughts drifted to the Sunwell.

 _Yes, Yes that will work nicely._

Far away, an ever changing figure on an ever changing throne looked down with interest at his little pet. Only one thing was going through his mind, despite it's constant changing form of wording.

 _Just. As. Planned._

* * *

It was very diminutive, this Scarlet Crusade. Nothing like a company of Guardsmen. He wished he could get a few Catachans, or maybe the Death Corp, but alas, he could not.

But they were human, and did not consort with xenos. Yes, they would have to do.

They were flawed at first, like a rough gem on a mound of dirt. But he had cleared away the dirt, cleared away their false pretenses of the _Light_ , and replaced it with zealous fervor to do the service of the Emperor. He had even made sure the _mages_ were sanctioned before they took them to battle.

The Crusade had explained to him the nature of the local xenos, _blood elves_ , they were called. They reminded him greatly of Eldar.

 _How he HATED_ _Eldar!_

They would be the first to fall. The first to fall under the mighty fist of the Emperor.

As the rear guard of the Crusade marched further into the xeno lands, the Librarian could sense the taint better and better.

Chaos was at work here.

* * *

To put it lightly, it was a slaughter.

The Wretched fort stood little chance against the Blood Elf detachment, let alone his powers, though he toned them down so as to not draw too much attention.

At one point in time, he planned on pitting the Blood Elf Cultists and Wretched Cultists against each other, to find out who was stronger.

He didn't even need to bother.

They would have no use other than being thralls, it simply _disgusted_ him to see the sheer lack of ability they had. They had ferocity, but no skill. Intent, but no means to carry it out.

That night, the Blood Elf detachment made camp. The Captain had received orders to push further into Wretched controlled land and to establish a forward base.

Iruv'Tak knelt in the tent that barely fit him, studying the tome he had found in the guild library, _Powerful Known Artifacts of Azeroth._ The writer seemed well versed, and the pages were filled from inch to inch with illustrations and text. The Skull of Gul'Dan, the Arcanominicon, the Eye of Sargeras, the Book of Medivh, and the Jeweled Scepter of Sargeras.

The writer lacked the up front knowledge of each artifact, but he was quite extensive from the magical standpoint, going in full detail on the properties and uses of the items in question.

In short, it was quite informative. The Skull and the Book of Medivh were said to be in the possession of a group of magic users called the Kirin Tor, while the Arcanominicon was held by the Blue Dragonflight. The Eye and Scepter of Sargeras's whereabouts were unknown, however.

As foresight, the back of the book explained that the writer had been an adventurer, and was involved with each of the artifacts.

 _Bol'nir Stoneskin._

He'd have to keep that name in mind.

He was interrupted by the opening of the door to his tent, and Lyanni stepped in.

"You asked for me?" She said.

"I did. What can you tell me of the Kirin Tor?"

* * *

 **Short chapter, I know. I'm also pretty late for updating, it's been like, what a month and a half? Bad me D:**

 **Excuses: Life, Lack of a Computer (This is a pretty rare chance for me), and Work. Because Work is not life :P**

 **For those who want more combat, fear not! WAR IS COMING! IN ALL ITS GLORY, AND ALL ITS HORROR! As for the artifacts and the Kirin Tor... Well, you're going to have to wait and find out! Did I not say war is coming? :]**

 **REVIEW RESPONSES:**

sarin555: Those voices in your head that tells you it's time for bed? I don't hear them... They told me I was already dead...

A.K.J.19: Thanks for the positive review! And yes, I immediately regretted not adding a _JUST AS PLANNED_ moment. GOTTA HAVE MORE JUST AS PLANNED!

Aburg76: Not cliche at all! Just As Planned has a location in every story! :P

Skepsis Forever: Nay. When I created the guild, I meant for them to be the desperate of the desperate. While some do have reserved doubts, the blood elves seem like a people who would go to great lengths to restore the Sunwell. As for Lyanni, I think that yes, perhaps I should have thrown in the bewitched thing, my bad there. But yes, he did actually go saying "I have come to bring all of Azeroth under the heel of the Dark Gods!" As for the Loyalists, they, as shown above, will be arriving in say, **_SPOILER ALERT_** two to three chapters. **_SPOILER ALERT_** And If what I understand about Warlocks is correct, while not outright hunted down and killed, are generally considered untrustworthy and most go out of their way to avoid contact with Warlocks.

TheSolInvictus: Here's some more :P Thoughts?

If I missed any other reviews, well... SAD FACE


	6. Chapter 6: And It Shall Gaze Back At You

_"FOR THE EMPEROR!"_

 _"_ _ **FOR THE EMPEROR!**_ _"_

The warriors of the Scarlet Crusade seethed forward out of the forest, prepared to torch the village of xenos at every inch.

" _Purge this land of their corruption!_ "

Brother-Captain Mikael would have joined into the fray, but the Crusaders did not need his help. Within several minutes, the village burned and the filthy xenos lay dead on the ground.

Besides, bolter ammunition had suddenly become very valuable.

The sickening elven people infested the lands, spoiling it, therefore stealing from Humanity.

Humanity owned these lands, the Emperor had decreed it. Very soon, this world would burn in the fires of righteous fury!

" _On to the bastion of their weakness! Forwards, to Silvermoon!"_

* * *

Iruv'Tak had much work to do.

He was definitely a more... _benevolent_ sorcerer, compared to others, but he did not appreciate stupidity.

"You doubt my powers, Lyanni? What could a mere order of _mages_ do to halt my advance? The Dark Gods will find a way, whether I do it or not. They have set their minds to it, and it _will_ be done. Nothing can hold them back, _nothing_."

Two days had passed since the battle. The Detachment formerly known as Quimeron's Pest Removers at this point had established a fortified foothold. Every once in a while a roving band of Wretched might stop by to try to break in, but they barely laid a scratch before the guardsmen dispatched them.

Quimeron had informed him that he was free to leave at this point, and he needed to stop by Dalaran to... Go _grocery shopping_.

He chuckled at his sick sense of humor.

"I require a portal to Silvermoon, where I will be going to pick up my lieutenants. You will remain here."

She nodded. "Of course." Then with a simple incantation, a blue portal appeared.

Iruv'Tak stepped through it. This had been his first time through a portal, and it felt somewhat like... Floating through space.

Sound burst into his ears, and he was met with the bright colors of Silvermoon. The portal closed behind him.

It took him some time, but he made his way to the library, where he was met by Redstar.

"Redstar, gather the cultists. We have work to do."

"Very well."

* * *

"Servants of Chaos, I have gathered you here today to take another step in the restoration of the Sunwell. There are certain items of interest that may allow us to speed up the process, which the Kirin Tor hold. Today, we g-".

"The Kirin Tor? But the Kirin Tor are a neutral faction! We can't go about attacking them! Not to mention they're the second most powerful group of magic users in existence!" A Blood Elf Cultist interrupted rather rudely.

Iruv'Tak snarled. "You doubt the powers of Chaos? Behold, Cultists, the touch of Tzeentch." With that, he reached out and touched the trembling elf's arm. It twisted and morphed.

"I... I feel... Stronger?!" The Elf cried out.

Redstar whispered to him. "You gave him a gift? He displayed disobedience, he should be punished." Iruv'Tak mentally smiled. The corruption of Chaos was growing in them.

"Oh that _was_ his punishment. It will kill him later on." He whispered back. "Now! Who doubts the strength of the Dark Gods? They can change your form, change your very being! They can make you stronger, but if you displease them, they will torment your souls to no end... Did the Kirin Tor ever help your plight? Even while you're people slowly devolved to Wretched? No, they are your enemies! They do not fear you, but they will fear the Dark Gods!"

He ignored the cheers that followed, and instead reached out with his mind toward Dalaran, the Floating City. He could sense the sheer power that leaked from it, swimming through the air, it really wasn't that hard to find.

Within the arcane energies, he found a source of corruption. Demonic power surged from deep below, in the bowels of the city, linked directly to the mages.

Summoning all his mental prowess, he created an Infernal Gateway. A portal through the warp.

"Lieutenants. As soon as you enter, cast a shield around yourselves. The demons await within."

With that, he stepped inside. The power fluctuation had already attracted a pack of demons. He projected a shield around him and the portal, protecting the Cultists that soon followed. Slowly, he made his way through the Immaterium, following the trace of arcane power.

Soon, he found the source of the corruption. It was just as he believed: The Skull of Gul'Dan.

Unfortunately, he could not enter nearby. Arcane runes and traps prevented him from entering, no doubt as a lock and key. He guided the Cult above, into an open space, presumably a room.

As he entered into real-space once more, he was greeted rather rudely. "You! This is a restricted area. Only Kirin Tor officials are allowed _near_ here!"

Iruv'Tak turned to the voice. A human mage stood pointing a finger accusingly, while a... _Night Elf, was it?_ Looked ready to attack at any moment.

"Lieutenants, dispose of these _miscreants_."

Suddenly, the night elf had cast a magical barrier, and the human teleported away, only arcane energy to say he was there.

A volley of doombolts surged forward, striking the barrier. One found the Night Elf's leg, and another sent it flying backwards.

Iruv'Tak walked forward, making his way to the magical barrier that hid the stairway.

"The Kirin Tor... Lady Proudmoore... will stop you..." she sputtered.

He looked back to her and picked her up with a single, armored fist.

" _No one can stop the Dark Gods._ "

* * *

Jaina frowned as the door to her office burst open, a mage stood there gasping for breath.

"Yes? What is it?"

"The vault! The Sk-" His breath hitched for a moment, and he went into a fitful cough. "Someone is trying to break into the Artifact Vault!"

"The vault? How? Never mind, gather the council! We must stop whoever it is!"

Very soon, Jaina and five other mages stood where the first barrier should be.

 _Should be._ The barrier itself was shattered, scattered across the room. Traces of magic still seeped from where it stood once.

The mages gasped. Proudmoore had enchanted that barrier herself!

Nearby, a night elf lay curled up, muttering to herself. Jaina frowned. That was the guard that _should_ have been defending the barrier. A very skilled one at that.

"What are you doing? Get up, you have a job to do!" yelled one of the six.

The night elf looked back at them. " _They're coming. They're coming. All is doomed, all is dust._ "

"Who is coming?"

" _THE DARK GODS!_ "

"The Titans imprisoned them long ago!"

"Not them. Not those. Those are imposters. They are weak. They fear them, even the _titans_ fear them!"

"We don't have time for this. She's obviously gone insane and lost control of herself, we need to stop the intruders, we can get her medical attention later." growled Karlain.

"While I regret saying this, you're right. We must press on."

They trekked further down the stairway, until they came to another series of barriers, all destroyed. Jaina could see figures ahead, chanting in the dim light of the Artifact Vault.

"In the name of the Kirin Tor, stop! Submit yourselves to judgement!"

* * *

" _In the name of the Kirin Tor, stop! Submit yourselves to judgement!"_

"Continue your business, lieutenants. I'll take care of this. Redstar, come with me."

Redstar's gaze had traces of fear in it.

"That is Jaina Proudmoore..." he hissed.

Iruv'Tak walked to the entrance of the vault, Redstar hurrying to keep up with his long strides.

"I have no intention of stopping! The Blood Elf people suffer, while you hide behind your flimsy wooden sticks and your Alliance."

"So, you're from Silvermoon? This is an act of war!"

"Nay, I am not of Silvermoon. I am a Servant and Sorcerer of the Dark Gods! You will know fear, mortals!" He sneered at them. "I, a complete stranger to this world, am helping this people." The chanting stopped behind him, and a fluctuation of power surged.

"My lord Sorcerer, the arcane bindings have been severed."

"Very good. Lieutenants, prepare for our departure. But first, I must teach these fools a lesson." He projected a psychic barrier as the mages before him began casting spells, fireballs and spears of ice slammed into it. The sheer force of the power they wielded forced him to reinforce the barrier, drawing on some of his energy.

"Hmm. A good show of power. Perhaps you are not all as weak as I thought? _Can you handle **this**?_ "

Iruv'Tak pointed his staff forward in a rough manner, and channeled warp energy through it. Tendrils of pink and purple lightning shot out.

The one called Proudmoore raised he own staff and channeled her mana, meeting the lightning with a stream of arcane fire. They stood there for a few moments, magic against warpcraft, until she slowly began to falter. The other mages began to cast offensive spells at him, and Iruv'Tak was forced on the defensive again.

 _This..._ He thought. _Could actually be a problem. I cannot afford to underestimate them, they are frighteningly powerful. They don't even use warpcraft! I must save my energy. I cannot afford to confront them now._

"Lieutenants! We're leaving!" He willed the touch of Tzeentch on the rebellious cultists to reform him into a large pink horror. The cultist began to scream as his body stretched, the tendons and muscles snapping and his arms twisting in unnatural angles.

"Demon, distract these mages." With that, he prepared another Infernal Gateway. He took the Tome of Medivh and the Skull of Gul'Dan from Flamebrook, and stepped through the portal.

* * *

Jaina was worried.

 _Very worried._

This Sorcerer, as he called himself, had easily stood up against the onslaught of her and five other council members.

He had taken the Skull of Gul'dan and the Tome of Medivh, as well as broken through her enchantments with ease.

Something bad was happening, and when it happened, she and the rest of the Kirin Tor had to be ready for it.

* * *

 **UH OH. DID THE SORCERER JUST MAKE JAINA PROUDMOORE MAD JELLY?**

 **That's never good for the offending party! The Sorcerer better watch his back, he's making enemies! Bad ones too, Jaina Proudmoore is not the mage you want to tick off.**

 **Don't worry, if you wanted the Kirin Tor to fall under the influence of Chaos, that can happen too! _Can_ , but it will not be easy. I haven't decided if I want the Kirin Tor to be his foes, or his allies. I'm leaning towards foes. After all, the Alliance and the Light would be completely opposed to Iruv'Tak and his Cults.**

 **Review Plz! Also, fast chapter :D REVIEWS FOR THE REVIEW THRONE!**

 **VERY IMPORTANT: Am I taking this too fast? Too slow? Do you want Iruv'Tak to lose more? Should he win more? Should he restore the Sunwell? Should he fail in restoring the Sunwell? Should he corrupt the Kirin Tor? Should he become bitter enemies? Should he meet up with the Warlock Covens? Should he become allies or enemies with the Warlock Covens? But most importantly...**

 **Should he find Frostmourne? Lol, that would be the day. BUT SERIOUSLY, SHOULD IT HAPPEN?! IMAGINE THE POWER!**

 **REVIEW RESPONSES:**

Aburg76: Indeed. I never read Grey Knights, so I wouldn't have known. D: But 'Tis ok, you warned me! I tried to throw some of that in here with the Touch of Tzeentch part. NEED MORE JUST AS PLANNED :D

A.K.J.19: Yes, but not for a while yet. Perhaps in a sequel? I've already planned a sequel if this one get's a good response (which it has, and I already know how Immaterium Interference is going to end!).

Skepsis Forever: Hmm, Civil War? Thinking more of a "runaway skirmish". Iruv'Tak hates politics, and he wants as little to do with it as possible. Perhaps the Cultists take over the abandoned side of Silvermoon? Or maybe... (laughs demonically) he does something with the Sunwell, and some great catastrophe happens! (That benefits Iruv'Tak, of course!) Yes, I think he's viewed by the Cultists as a Dark Messiah of sorts. Evil, but a necessary Evil. On the lines of Sargeras and the Burning Legion **_POSSIBLE SPOILER ALERT_** they will DEFINITELY meet up. Demons vs Demons? It always happens. Whether they're neutral or hostile towards one another, they're never friendly. Besides, I think Iruv'Tak is one to take the Burning Legion as a weak sort. However, Sargeras is practically a god, so it's not like he'd be able to go one on one with him...

YET.

sarin555: I've actually been thinking about throwing in _**POSSIBLE SPOILER ALERT**_ a little Sindri. He's so epic, and his voice is like wine. _Evil Wine._ Besides, it's not like he's dead, he ascended before they killed him, and Demon Princes live forever, they just get sent back into the Warp for like, a thousand years. But there will be more **_POSSIBLE SPOILER ALERT_** Sindri I think. Like during the restoration of the Sunwell...


	7. Chapter 7: A Siege of Worlds

**NOTICE: The following phrases mean "By this Standard will you conquer!" The second means "Kill them all, The Emperor will know his own!" Roughly, that is.**

" _In hoc signo vinces!_ " Brother-Captain Mikael pointed to the Aquila on his chest-plate.

" _Caedite eos! Novit enim Imperator qui sunt eius!_ "

The shouting of thousands of the Scarlet Crusade met his ears. Their morale soared, the presence of the Angels of Death and their recent victories boosting it.

" ** _AVE IMPERATOR!_** "

During their most recent victory, a group of what he was told to be adventurers escaped before they were slain. No doubt this would reach the ears of the Blood Elves.

No matter. It was the Emperor's will that these xenos be slain, and it would be done.

He looked at the cloudless sky. With the blessing of the Emperor, how could they lose?

* * *

Iruv'Tak gripped the arm of the final cultist, Redstar.

He slowly drew the mark of Tzeentch and the Eight-Pointed-Star on his arm, the warpfire marking it with it's unholy signature. Redstar flinched a moment as the scar slowly formed.

"From this moment on, you have sold yourselves _permanently_ into the service of Tzeentch. You _cannot_ leave. You have all agreed to this, and were warned beforehand..."

He waited for the silence to drag on dramatically.

"There is no turning back now. Soon we shall be prepared to restore your Sunwell." _As well as exact my position of power..._

"What more do we require?"

"We require more cultists. The power to restore it cannot be channeled by only us..."

In truth, the Sunwell _could_ be restored, but Iruv'Tak had plans, plans like any proper Sorcerer.

"It shall be done."

* * *

Several hours passed. Word had spread throughout the undercity that a guild had uncovered the power to restoring the Sunwell. No one knew where the rumors had originated, Redstar did his work well.

It was the talk of taverns, the gossip of adventurers, and the merchandise of information brokers.

Meanwhile, Iruv'Tak had carried on training his Lieutenants. The Warlocks took to summoning Daemons from the Warp easily, although it was hampered by the distinct _lack_ of daemons that roamed the Immaterium.

Currently, he and Flamebrook were carving sigils into the shrine.

"This is the sigil of Tzeentch, and this is one of the many depictions of psychic power."

"If I may ask, why are we adding these?"

"After I bestow the proper rites, they will enhance the channeling ability and overall power of the shrine."

"I see. Would it be possible to draw arcane symbols on it as well?"

Iruv'Tak paused. _Intriguing... I am certain Tzeentch wouldn't mind a bit of otherworldly power._

"Very creative Flamebrook... Very creative indeed." Even though Winten hid it well, Iruv'Tak could sense through his psychic presence that he beamed at the praise. "Perhaps we could use sigils from the Book of Medivh..."

Flamebrook thought, and nodded.

"Flamebrook, I am not... adept in the arcane arts of this world." Winten's eyebrows shot up. _World?_ "I may need you to explain these sigils to me."

"Certainly. Let's see... This here is the sigil of raw arcane energy, and these are fire and ice, un-edited if you will. They are the most basic of sigils, but are still the most fundamental. This is the sigil of form, without it, your spell will be "without form", therefore a must for any combat spells. Here are sub-forms, crafted by various mages in history. As sigils are the components of a spell, you must speak the correct incantations in order for them to form. So, for example, if I take Missile, Arcane, Form, and Directed..."

A series of magical bolts flew from his hand to the opposing wall. They vaguely reminded Iruv'Tak of Doombolts.

"Behold, Magic Missile."

"That's a fairly... Bland term." Iruv'Tak chuckled.

The banter was interrupted by someone knocking on the door above. Iruv'Tak stood up to leave.

"Carry on. I shall see what the matter is." He strode up the stairs and to the door, to reveal none other than Quimeron.

"I don't suppose there's a reason you're knocking on the door to a guild?"

Quimeron smiled. "As sharp a tongue as ever, Sorcerer, and fancy finding you in here. I've been instructed to inform the guilds that they should be ready for combat by noon." His smile faded, to reveal a frown. "There have been reports of a large army of Scarlet Crusaders, quite possibly their whole order, compiled into a single, combat hardened force. They've been razing village after village it seems, leaving no survivors. We only just heard about them from several groups of refugees that escaped their last attack. They're mobilizing again, quite possibly marching on Silvermoon itself. Normally I wouldn't bother the guilds for something as trivial as the Crusade, but their numbers have practically boiled over in the last few weeks. What's worse, there have been rumors of a group of nine foot tall warriors, that look..." He stopped for a moment. "Well, to be honest, their description sounds exactly like you, except maybe with different carvings in your armor."

Iruv'Tak froze. He found his voice a few seconds later.

" _Space Marines..._ "

"What?"

"Space Marines. My hated foe. They are responsible for why I am here... They are a force to be reckoned with, and if the Scarlet Crusade is with them... They will be far stronger than ever before. The closest I can compare them to is perhaps an automaton giant, that carry repeating crossbows the size of your torso, and some even carry ballistae. They have martial prowess like none other. You were right in bringing this to my attention, this may be a fight your army cannot win. Nothing you have could hope to scratch them, except maybe some giant boulders..."

Quimeron's frown became even graver. "This is indeed troubling."

"They will stop at nothing. They have a fanatical hatred for xenos, so don't even bother trying to reason with them. Do you know how many there are?"

"From the reports, I've heard that there are at least four."

"Four is not too bad, so long as I am there... However, I doubt that that is all there is. You're walls will only give you a slight advantage before they decimate them entirely, it would be best to fight them in some terrain they won't be familiar with. An ambush, perhaps..."

"I shall bring this news to the Regency, see what they have to say about it. In the meanwhile, please inform this guild of the Regency's request. Can you stand as this guild's representative during a War Council? If you can, meet me in the barracks in an hour, otherwise, send someone else. I must be going now."

"Of course, Captain." As soon as the door had closed, Iruv'Tak immediately reached out with his mind.

" _Redstar! We have a serious situation!_ "

" _What is it? I'm kind of busy initiating cultists._ "

" _The enemies of the Dark Gods approach. They will seek to do everything in their power to stop us. Oh, and they're a group of xenophobic fanatics that will stop at nothing to burn Silvermoon to the ground._ "

" _Sounds like the Scarlet Crusade._ "

" _It IS the Scarlet Crusade, along with my most hated foes, the Space Marines. We must prepare for war._ "

" _Very well. I've been able to initiate several other guilds into our own. People take to Chaos quite easily it seems..._ "

Iruv'Tak smiled underneath his skull helm. It was so _easy_ to spread Chaos and it's corruption. Blood Elves were drawn to it like flies to a corpse.

" _Gather them in Falconwing Square, and send the Lieutenants, we must move the Shrine._ "

" _Of course. It will only take me a moment, I am guessing I will see you there?_ "

" _Indeed._ " Iruv'Tak cut the mental link.

* * *

Iruv'Tak frowned.

Even though he did not face him, he could tell that Sunreaver was throwing uneasy glances at his back.

He turned his attention back to the meeting, where Quimeron was informing the guilds of their objectives.

"- _The Enlightened_ and _Grayson's Scryers_ , per request, will be accompanying the _Servants of Chaos_ -" His eyebrow shot up as he said the name, and he shot a glance at Iruv'Tak, who waved casually "-to the ridge just east of the main battle zone. You will be expected to be on the offensive as soon as their main combat group engages. _The Enlightened_ and _Grayson's Scryers_ will be supporting the _Servants of Chaos_ in whatever course of action they choose, which from what I understand is engaging the enemy _Space Marines_?" He looked inquisitively at the three guild representatives.

Seeing that the other two expected him to speak, Iruv'Tak cleared his throat. "Indeed, they are a force which few in this world have the power to combat. It would be _just like_ the _Space Marines_ to commandeer something as ridiculous as the Crusade."

"Very well. This concludes the meeting."

Just then, a scout burst into the tent.

"Captain! We've spotted them."

* * *

 **How convenient that they are spotted right in time for a cliffhanger?**

 **First of all, I would like to throw out a giant thank you to all my dear readers, who gave me te encouragementz! I'm officially declaring Hiatus over, and I'm ALOT more stable then I used to be. Didn't even have to lose my house, though it was VERY close.**

 **Sorry for the short chapter, but I wanted to get this out as fast as possible, I'm sure you'll understand :D**

 **" _There must always be a Muffin King."_**

 ** _-SyntheticLegion_**


	8. Chapter 8: Trial By Fire

Iruv'Tak watched on the hillside as Quimeron managed his forces with tactical efficiency.

"Archers in the front row! When they are within range, fire your volley and retreat behind the phalanx! Spearmen on the second row, one swordsmen company every two spearmen companies! Mages in the far rear, Priests in the middle row! Support every soldier next to you, and he will support you in turn!" The Captain's voice carried over the sea of Blood Elves. "Think of your families, your homes, and your kingdom! Who do you fight for!?"

" _We fight for family, home, and kingdom!_ "

Iruv'Tak turned to his cultists.

"And who do you fight for?"

" _We fight for Chaos and the Dark Gods._ "

He smile was dark. He did not wish to spend the cultists fighting off Space Marines...

But it had to be done. They were a number, an expendable resource. But it took more resources to initiate more cultists. This was merely a setback. Even if the Space Marines had a thousand years of preparation, they could not stop him now.

His glory awaited.

"Cultists, the foes of the Dark Gods approach. They would seek to undo all we have done, they would seek to prevent the restoration of the Sunwell. Fight this day. Fight and find your power, your glory! Feel the power, experience the blessings of the Ruinous Powers. For they are your only salvation, your only hope. Put your trust in them, in me... They will give you what you seek..." His voice was like wine. Evil wine.

He turned back the cult. "For what cost is too great?!"

" _There is no cost too great, no price too large to pay!_ "

There would be much blood shed this day.

"IT IS A GOOD DAY FOR YOUR FOES TO DIE, IS IT NOT!?"

He sniffed the air. It was cool, crisp, and full of the signs of autumn.

Soon, it would be filled with the signs of battle.

His trained Astartes eyes focused on the oncoming battle. The Crusader's Army had just come into view, and were taking up offensive positions.

The Captain of these Astartes had trained this force to become the fist of their Corpse-Emperor. While not nearly as disciplined an army as the Imperial Guard, it would surely put any other to shame.

Even from this distance, he could hear the rhythmic beat of thousands of soldiers marching at once, like a massive collection of drums, drums beating for war.

He easily picked out four Astartes among the human army, their towering forms dwarfing all beneath them. They were spread across the furthermost lines, intent on keeping up the morale of their soldiers as well as pushing forward on all fronts.

A clever strategy, but they would be bested by Quimeron's Pincer Stratagem.

Two armies with the main force in between them, hidden behind the hillsides. The main force would surely be pushed back in between the hills where the extra forces lay, and then the guilds could cut the Crusader's forces in half, just when they thought they were gaining ground.

Arrows filled the air as the Blood Elves fired off their first volley, and then withdrew into the protection of the phalanx.

The crude missiles struck true into the Crusaders, but they marched on, seemingly undaunted by the casualties they had sustained.

They drew closer and closer, taking volley upon volley of arrows, until finally, a Space Marine drew his chainsword and pointed it to the air and shouted " _FOR THE EMPEROR!_ " With that mighty cry, the armies closed in on one another, the clanging of swords against shields marking the beginning of the battle.

But even for all the chaos in the battle below, one noise stood over the rest.

The sound of bolters.

If Quimeron didn't fake a tactical retreat, then he would be forced to make an actual one. The Space Marines weaponry chattered over and over, eating away at the Blood Elf lines. Iruv'Tak watched as a blood elf raised his tower shield to defend himself from the bolters, but a shell passed right through it and turned the elf into a bloody pulp.

The battle continued to rage, and while the elves fought valiantly, they could not hope to match the strength and sheer willpower of the Loyalists.

Soon, the time had come.

" _Servants of the Dark Gods! To war!_ "

He raised his dual pronged staff into the air, sending an orb of fire into the sky, signaling the other guilds that the time to engage the enemy had come.

The cultists surged forward, spilling over the hill and rushing towards the Crusaders with a burning vengeance, the dark fire of corruption burning in their eyes.

He had hoped that the Loyalists would take their time in arriving, hopefully allowing his four lieutenants to complete their mission...

But his time had run out, and he had to attack with his cultists now if he wished to gain the approval of the Blood Elves.

Iruv'Tak was the among the first to clash with the Crusaders, his spiked staff waving to and fro, his sheer strength and the enchantments that affected his weapon throwing his foes as if they were sand to a shovel.

The unexpected attack had thrown the Crusader's cohesion off balance, but the Astartes were quick to correct their hasty mistakes and assign several battlegroups to aid in the defense against the cultists.

As Iruv'Tak laughed gleefully, the adrenaline of combat surging through his veins, when a blow to his shoulder staggered him. The enchantments held, however, and he was able to turn to look at his foe.

A Space Marine shot him a look of defiance, the bolter in his hand chirping as it ran out of ammo.

 _Those fools dare strike at me!? I am a Sorcerer of Tzeentch, a Thousand Son, what can they possibly hope to achieve against my infinite power!?_

He slammed the bottom of his staff into the ground, opening up a fissure which cracked the ground all the way to the offending Space Marine. The fissure then exploded, sending warpfire in every direction. The Loyalist was quick however, and had thrown himself to the side at the last moment. He tossed his bolter aside, it's muzzle having been melted in the attack, and drew his chainsword.

With a mighty cry, the marine charged forward, intent on severing Iruv'Tak limb from limb, only to find himself being parried by the Sorcerer.

Iruv'Tak knocked the attack aside and thrust his staff forward, trying to shove the weapon into the Astartes's body, but the Marine seized the staff and pulled it past him, pulling the Sorcerer close to him, and shoved him to the ground.

Iruv'Tak lost his staff as he fell to the ground. He had not practiced against an Astartes in some time, and he was quite rusty.

He saw the marine rush forward and attempt to bisect him at the waist, but he retrieved his staff with a telekinetic pull and blocked the chainsword's teeth at the very last moment, and in a single fluid motion, shoved the marine backwards, teleported himself upright, and swung the staff around him in a crescent moon motion, cutting the marine in half at the chest, the dark enchantments proving more than a match for the Astartes's adamantine armor.

The Crusaders in the general area were terrified after seeing their angel of death so easily cut down, and fled from the scene. Iruv'Tak smiled grimly and put the Touch of Tzeentch on them, the crusaders in question exploding into a pink horror shortly afterwards.

He stepped back from the main line of fighting and tried to ascertain their tactical position from here. The Crusaders were still pushing the main Blood Elf Army back, but he could attribute that mainly to the Devastator Marine, who seemed to have changed from his lascannon to a heavy bolter.

He channeled to dark forces of the warp through his staff, and sent a ball of warpfire towards the general area of that specific marine. The resulting explosion would make a fireball look like a child's toy, but the Marine lived on.

The Blood Elves were losing, and Iruv'Tak could not hold the marines off by himself. He needed his lieutenants...

* * *

Cultist Flamebrook heard the cries of battle draw closer, and he and his fellow cultists knew that they approached the battle zone. Already they had seen several priests, who were healing any wounded they could in the rear lines.

Slowly they made their way up the hill, and slowly they made their way down into the midst of their fellow cultists.

He spotted the unmistakable form of the Sorcerer.

"My lord, we have brought the shrine. What is your bidding?"

* * *

Iruv'Tak watched as the cultists chanted in the dark speech, kneeling before the Shrine of Tzeentch, summoning and channeling the power within.

He felt the power within the altar reach it's climax, and he added his own chanting, his voice rising above the others.

"Dark Gods! Hear our cry! Your servants call on your infinite power, your servants who do thy will! Show them your glory! Show them that the servants of the Corpse-Emperor stand no chance against your might!"

Iruv'Tak knew that the other gods would ignore him, but Tzeentch enjoyed playing with the affairs of mortals, so long as it served his plans and his whims decided to heed his servant's call. This new plane was of great interest to him, and he nowadays put more and more of his attention into Azeroth than he did the normal realm, where his greatest foes resided.

The destruction of the Loyalists would cease all of the False Emperor's operations there, and his power would be unquestioned.

 _Just. As. Planned._

* * *

Iruv'Tak looked on with great satisfaction as the warp energies spilled from the shrine into the sky, and then peeled off into different directions. Dozens of daemons poured forth from the energy, horrors, screamers, and flamers alike.

They attacked the Crusaders with an unholy vengeance, the will of the Sorcerer driving them forth, turning the Loyalists into heaps of corpses. Every single Astartes turned to face the newfound threat, the only thing that could actually harm them:

Iruv'Tak.

He quickly raised a psychic barrier around his forces and advanced, the power of the shrine making him stronger with every step. Bolter shells hung in the air, suspended in motion by the barrier.

The daemons slaughtered Crusaders left and right, driving them into madness or simply tearing right into them with unadulterated glee.

As Iruv'Tak neared the Marines, he saw two of them shoot into the air, their jump packs screaming and illuminating the area like wings of fire.

One of the marines was clipped by Redstar's doombolts, and he fell into the mass of daemons waiting for him.

The other raised his thunder hammer, crashing through the barrier and crushing three horrors in his descent. A cultist attempted to engage him, only to be cleaved in two by the mighty weapon of war, his bones snapping like a twig under the sheer force of the blow.

The marine raised his hammer and pointed it at Iruv'Tak.

"Come, Sorcerer! Test your mettle, and taste the steel of the Emperor's Finest!"

Iruv'Tak could have simply blasted the marine right then and there, but he raised his staff and pointed it at the marine likewise. He was taking a gamble: To prove stronger than these angels of death in close quarters combat, fist to fist, head to head. It would only increase the power that Iruv'Tak had over his cultists.

The cultists gave them an open berth, intent on watching, even as the battle raged on around them.

Iruv'Tak took a step forward, driving his two pronged staff forward, at an attempt to impale the Loyalist and end the fight there, but the Assault Marine was quicker than he looked, deftly sidestepping the blow and swinging his hammer in a 360 degree motion.

The attack nicked his undamaged shoulder plate and shattered the plating, but did no damage from there. Iruv'Tak swept his spear low at the legs of the Marine, but he jumped and activated his jump pack, soaring into the sky above, intent on bringing reckoning down on Iruv'Tak's head.

 _Gonna play dirty huh? Dodge THIS!_

Iruv'Tak waited a moment, and then gripped the marine with a psychic hand, pulling him down to the ground.

The marine stumbled a moment, and raised his hammer sideways to block an oncoming overhead blow from Iruv'Tak.

The Sorcerer pooled all of his might and strength into this one blow, bringing his weapon down in an attack with the might that could have cracked the spine carapace of a Hive Tyrant.

And split the mighty steel of the Thunder Hammer in two.

The Assault Marine looked forlornly at his broken weapon, when he felt the pain of a weapon being driven through his chest, and bursting through his back. He cried out in pain, but to onlookers, it was only a grunt.

It was good enough for Iruv'Tak, who lifted the marine off the ground with his staff and two hands.

"Take one last look at your brave Crusader Army, Loyalist. For soon, nothing shall remain, but the Dark God's laughter!"

With that, he dumped the marine onto the ground, to be torn apart by the daemons.

It was time to finish this battle.

* * *

 **So, thoughts on that duel? I took some heavy inspiration from the Diablo III Imperius vs. Diablo scene, it grips me so hard! I only wish it had lasted longer, that duel between the Aspect of Valor and the Prime Evils was sweet.**

 **REVIEW REPLIES:**

Aburg76: Power of names? I thought about it, Thousand Sons is my favorite book of the Horus Heresy series I think, but wouldn't that be soooo op? I decided he could, but I would only use it in life or death situations/battles with a force far greater than his own. Thanks for the review!

Guest: Iruv'Tak is in many ways like Ahriman. He seems arrogant and bold on the outside, but in reality, he's a cold, calculated being that takes all of the risks into account. Him finding Frostmourne could go many ways, and he would probably recognize the demonic taint therein.

A.K.J.19: Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehhehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehhehehehehe. Doesn't every Sorcerer have plans?

As always, **REVIEWS FOR THE REVIEW THRONE!**

 **-Yours in writing, SyntheticLegion  
**


	9. Chapter 9: Chaos Rising

_Right slash, sidestep, overhead block, thrust through the left torso area... Yes, like that. 180 Degree spin, doombolt, parry and riposte, slash to the elbow where the tendon is weak, sever it and take advantage of the shock._

So it went as Cultist Flamebrook danced with his three opponents. He tried to cause as few mortal wounds as possible, having been ordered to take prisoners for the upcoming ritual.

 _The thralls don't need their limbs. Just their lives._

He continued to hack and slash in a gruesome fasion, weaving about as he dodged and parried weapons and shields alike.

He had been a renowned duelist before he had discovered his affinity for magic. He utilized both a shortsword and his magic when he fought, one hand ready to cast, and the other ready to block and slash.

He still carried the desire for praise and glory that he found when he had been a duelist. Nothing pleased him more, than to hear the acknowledgement of his superiors and colleagues, however lacking they were.

The sorcerer. The Sorcerer was a worthy leader, and he trusted him completely. He had given them power, taught them the ways of warpcraft. Soon he would be rewarded with power insurmountable.

 _Kick to the kneecaps, drive through the shoulder, kick to the ground to incapacitate._

He tried to catch his breath as he stared at the carnage around him.

Yes, he would follow the Sorcerer to the gates of hell and back. Nothing could shake his resolve.

* * *

"Your mission is simple. I have taken the leisure of sending a band of assassins after the being in question, and although they might not survive, they will weaken him enough for you to finish him off. He currently resides in Silvermoon. I have alerted Aethas Sunreaver along with a full report of the happenings here, and he has offered to help in this operation. Do not turn his offer down, you will need all the help you can get."

"Lady Proudmoore, this is most unlike you. Assassins? I would think you to send _diplomats_ instead."

"I have been well informed that this is a great evil that, should we allow it to fester and take root, will become unstoppable. We need to end it before it begins."

"Just how do you know this? Who is your informant?"

Suddenly, out of the shadows, stepped an elf with glowing blue eyes.

"Greetings, mortals. I am Nozdormu. I have seen the grim dark of the near future, and in it, there is only war."

* * *

Iruv'Tak stood atop the field, with each body of the Blood Angel Loyalists laying in a tight circle around the shrine.

The cultists around him began their chant, and he began to channel his excess power into the shrine.

"Rise, bodies of the fallen. Rise and fight once more."

The blood and flesh under the marine armor began to dissipate into thin air, as the eye slits began to take on a sickly purple glow.

" _Rise, Rubicae_."

The disembodied spirits that he had taken from the Warp began to manifest themselves into the living shells, and they did as commanded.

Iruv'Tak smiled underneath his helmet.

"Rubric Marines! Laugh for me!"

* * *

Redstar knew of the standing order for the Sorcerer's arrest. He had been ordered to turn him in on sight, should he return to the library.

 _Ha! Like I'd do that. The Regency is weak. It is corrupt. It is like a cancer on the face of Azeroth, eating away at the integrity of the Blood Elf race. There is only one fit to lead. Only one fit to rule._

Chaos had fully corrupted him, and he knew it. He welcomed it, he embraced it with open arms.

 _Only one strong enough. Only one wise enough._

What he did not know, was the unbreakable stranglehold it had on him. Never could he return to his normal self.

 _Only one. The Sorcerer. His bidding is the bidding of the dark gods, his will the will of the Ruinous Powers._

Some would say that Redstar had gone mad in his lust for power.

 _Mad!? Ha! I'll show them... I'll show them all!_

His eyes showed off the taint within, seemingly unnatural.

 _The time is close._

Guilds had flocked to the Sorcerer's banner after the battle. He and the lieutenants had only trained them in the ways of rituals, nothing else.

 _They cannot be allowed to surpass me. I am the Sorcerer's chosen!_

They numbered practically in the hundreds, all ready for the command of the Sorcerer.

" _Lord Sorcerer, the guilds are ready. We await only your command._ " _  
_

 _"Most excellent, Redstar. The time is close. Bring two of the new shrines to the Sunwell._ "

" _Be prepared for hostilities. There is a standing order for your arrest._ "

There was no response for a few moments. " _I know. A band of assassins made an attempt on my life, but my new bodyguards disposed of them in seconds._ _Do as I have commanded._ "

* * *

Lyanni and the band of Kirin Tor Elites followed High Mage Sunreaver through the streets, following the trail of corpses that the dead Silvermoon guards had been reduced to. All attempts to apprehend the Sorcerer had failed spectacularly, and now they had been forced to take matters into their own hands.

"High Mage, this is the road to the Sunwell, is it not?"

Aethas paused and took in his surroundings.

"Indeed it is. He is heading to the Sunwell, but for why, I can only imagine the nefarious deeds he had in mind."

Sunreaver grit his teeth and pressed forward, trying to ignore the bodies that littered the path.

* * *

Iruv'Tak shoved the final prisoner down onto his knees. The three shrines made a triangle around the Sunwell, which simmered with an almost toxic liquid.

Iruv'Tak retrieved the Book of Medivh and the Skull of Gul'Dan from his belt and pouch. The skull hovered around his staff, while he held the Tome in his free hand.

"You may begin." He nodded to the hundreds of Chaos corrupted Cultists around him, and they began to chant as one.

" _At'la du nerezim, schu'tla du nerezim. Vruk, vruk, at'la vruk._ "

Iruv'Tak began to channel the dark energies from the Skull into the Sunwell, with the Tome acting as a battery filled with arcane power.

"All power requires sacrifice."

" _At'la du nerezim, schu'tla du nerezim. Vruk, vruk, at'la vruk._ "

"All power requires pain."

The Sunwell began to glow a purplish black, as the shrines began to add their own power, channeled from the cultists.

"I will have my _power_."

He began to focus on the prisoners around him, and channeled the spirits out of them and into him. They began to shriek in pain.

"Even at the sacrifice of others, even if it causes them _pain!_ "

Their cries for mercy reached an all new high as their life force was forcibly taken from them, and they fell to the ground, nothing but empty shells.

He instantly felt his power regenerate, and he focused all of it into the Sunwell.

" _At'la du nerezim, schu'tla du nerezim. Vruk, vruk, at'la vruk._ "

The Sunwell reached a visual crescendo, wisps and tendrils of energy flailing wildly.

Suddenly, one of his Rubicae made a sudden move to his back, shielding him from a fireball that would have thrown off his balance and possibly caused a power whiplash.

He momentarily detached himself from the ritual to throw up a shield and see Aethas, a group of Kirin Tor, and...

 _Lyanni? The fool! The wretch!_ Words cannot describe the fury and anger he felt at that moment, to see one of his own betray him. He should have known, kept a better eye on here. She was always the rebellious one.

 _No matter. She shall die for her folly, just like the rest of these fools!_ "Rubric Marines, dispose of the intruders!"

Immediately, the four marines began blasting away with their bolters, the Inferno Bolts soaring across the air and crashing into the barrier the mages had set up, as Aethas threw fireball after fireball into the Rubicae, only to find that they felt no pain.

"Just a little more... Just a little more!" Iruv'Tak began to weave his reserves of power into his chanting _._

And then the Sunwell shone with a final resonance. It worked. They had restored the Sunwell.

But they were not done, not yet.

He had paid his part of the bargain, now it was time for them to pay theirs.

"Cultists, continue chanting into the shrines! We have yet but one task left..."

Iruv'Tak knew it was his time. Tzeentch's favor shone upon him on this one moment. Now was his chance.

He activated the daemon sigils on the shrines mentally, and channeled their power into himself. He placed the Skull of Gul'Dan into the waters of the Sunwell, and began to shout.

"Lord of Change, Lord of a Thousand Faces, Master of the Sorcerers, hear my cry! Have I not done good in your sight? Have I not done your will, are you not pleased? Are you not amused? Are you not entertained!? Show me your favor, allow me to spread your taint and your word with even greater fervor! Allow me to show them that your servants are without equal!"

He felt it. He felt the favor of Tzeentch. His body began to transform, every limb stretching to it's limit as he changed into what he desired most.

" _Yes... Yes! IT IS UPON US!_ "

He felt the immense power at his disposal. The energy carried him into the air, as the three shrines continued to empower his transformation.

" _ **BEAR WITNESS, TO MY ASCEEENSIOOOON!**_

* * *

High Priestess Tyrande collapsed as she felt her strength weaken. She looked to the sky, where the moon had been covered in a sickly reddish glow.

By Elune, what evil had come upon the world?

Fordring felt before he saw the holy light of the city dwindle, it's power sapped like a parasite had found it.

By the Light, what evil had come upon the world?

Ysera saw the Dream tear itself inside out.

Nozdormu saw a hundred timelines vanish.

Malygos sensed the massive power fluctuation.

Alextrasza felt hundreds of lives wink out of existence as some dark ritual claimed their souls.

Titans, what evil had come upon the world?

A certain Undead Lich watched from the Immaterium. He guided himself back to his phylactery. It was time.

* * *

 **I am so afraid I rushed this.**

 **Like, was that a stupid move on my part?**

 **I'm just saying, he has two artifacts of immense power, and an army of cultists at his disposal.**

 **What about the very very very ended ending part? Was that dum? I am totally prepared to do a complete rewrite, but it's up to y'all.**

 **Also, a cookie to the person who guesses the identity of that Lich.**

 **REVIEWS:**

Aburg76: I haven't been doing a lot of Lyanni, mainly because I don't think I did enough character drafting before I pushed her in. She was kinda... eh to me. And yes, Tzeentch will be spicing up things very soon if the above didn't count. But hey, he loves change, what can you say?

A.K.J.19: HAVE SOME DELICIOUS DELICIOUS DESTINY


	10. Chapter 10: A Passing Glance

" _ **BEAR WITNESS, TO MY ASCEEENSIOOOON!**_ "

Cultists and Kirin Tor alike clutched their heads as the world screamed out around them, like a hive mind of beings in torture. It seemed as if the very air was distorted around them, dozens of cultists crying out in pain. It just shrieked _unnatural_. That something was terribly _wrong!_

Aethas only barely managed to keep the shield up. The metal giants seemed to be unaffected by the mental attack and had continued to fire the strange repeating crossbows of metal at them.

"I'll take the shield from here, High Mage. What do we do now?" She seemed on the edge of despair. To be frank, Aethas was too. There was this _aura_ around the twisting form of the Sorcerer that simply made him want to lie down and die.

He pushed the feeling to the back of his mind and began to conjure a pyroblast, the massive boulder of fire taking shape as the mana drained from Aethas. He had no idea what was going on, but it couldn't be good.

* * *

Winten Flamebrook was too distracted to notice one of the Rubicae sent flying by a massive explosion. Even as his eyes and ears bled in pain, looking up at the Sorcerer in wonder, Flamebrook was too consumed by the thought of achieving this same glory. Perhaps if he showed enough strength and served long enough he might be granted this blessing.

Even with the immense pain, Winten could feel the power that had returned to his people, the power of the Sunwell. He felt invincible, like he could take on anything. The Sorcerer's body shone a purplish red, before the light blinded Winten for a few seconds. What remained was completely different, but also the same. A spiked carapace formed over the now massive form. The shoulder facing Winten sported the sign of Tzeentch, with various other sigils chiseled out like some grisly painting. Like the Sorcerer's previous form, a purple robe lay beneath the armor which rose into a hood to cover the face.

The face itself was like nothing Winten had ever seen. One moment it appeared as some avian creature, and another it seemed as if he was staring into some swirling abyss. It seemed almost _impossible_!

Then time seemed to stop.

* * *

Iruv'Tak felt something change, before a blow with a force that could rival an Imperial titan sent him staggering. He turned his eyes, where a massive being that he could only describe as majestic hovered.

He had read about them, but didn't expect to meet one _quite_ yet.

"I assume you know what I am. Great Aspect of the Bronze Dragonflight, Nozdormu the Timeless. I should have foreseen this! How it is you were able to evade my watch of the timelines, I do not know, but it shan't matter now. I will end you and the timeline shall be restored." Iruv'Tak tried to dodge the next swipe, but his body refused to move. Nothing except Nozdormu moved, it was if time itself had stopped.

The Bronze Aspect seemed to take his time with battering and smashing Iruv'Tak, a hateful vengeance burning in his eyes.

"Do you know what you have done!? You have wiped out the equivalent of a hundred worlds, with your filthy _daemonhood_ destroying a number of timelines beyond belief!"

The Daemon Prince had begun to get annoyed with Nozdormu's monologue.

"Tzeentch will bring you to your knees, creature! You do not know the error of you-" Iruv'Tak had begun to spit back, but soon found he couldn't move his mouth any longer.

"Save your breath, daemon. Know that you will meet your master soon. Should you attempt your return, I shall alter the timelines again and again until I finally am rid of you." With that, Nozdormu prepared to strike him one final time, when the world began to shake.

" _Fool._ " The voice seemed drawn out and mocking. " _You waste the power given you. You do not aspire to become greater. You are a liability, you are of no use to me_."

"Show yourself, coward!" Nozdormu hissed.

" _Asssss youuuu wisshhhhhh_."

Beside Iruv'Tak, a rift opened literally between time and space. A heaping mass of tentacles and a single eye within stared back at him.

" _I cannot take a physical manifestation in this plane, lest it simply combust due to my awesome power._ " The tentacles writhed and wriggled, and with every syllable spoken, Iruv'Tak could feel a terrible pang in his head as if someone was clanging cymbals.

Nozdormu had recovered from his initial shock and regained his aloof composure. "What are you that you can break into _my_ timeline? Begone!"

The voice laughed back, although it sounded more like a crackling hiss. " _I am better known as Tzeentch, Lord of Change, Lord of Sorcery and Magic. You have much to thank me for, so hold your foolish tongue worm._ "

Iruv'Tak mentally recoiled. He could not believe that Tzeentch would take _this_ much interest in this plane! Surely it was a Greater Daemon playing god? But not even a Greater Daemon had power over timelines.

" _I had an extensive hand in the creation of this plane. I populated it's once sparse and enclosed with races and guided the keepers down the proper path. All in accordance with my plans, of course._ "

Nozdormu had long ago devolved into a fit of rage, his tail flicking like an angry cat. "You're mad. The Titans shaped this world and the titans alone!"

While he could not see it, Iruv'Tak could hear the sneer in Tzeentch's voice. " _Is that was they told you? Power hungry scum. Where do you think they received their power? The Titans were ungrateful. Many times you have wondered why the Titans have not returned. yes? Why they have not protected Azeroth like they promised?_ "

Nozdormu looked uncertain. "I still have no proof."

The same cackling rasp emitted from the breach in reality. " _Foolish as always. **See the truth**_."

Iruv'Tak's vision flashed white and he felt himself slip from reality.

When he could see again, a very familiar realm presented itself: The Warp.

" _Do not speak. While the beings may not be able to see you due to the spell I have cast, they will become suspicious if they hear you._ " The raspy voice came from nowhere, and Iruv'Tak found himself staring at a group of beings standing on a mountain that conversed with one another.

"With this newfound power that the the Lord of Change has given us, we can finally finish our work. In exchange, he or _it_ will be populating the world with lesser creatures, while we use our strength to create the guardians of this realm. The dragon aspects shall be our finest work."

"Sargeras, are you certain this is a good idea? We still don't know if it has any ulterior motives."

"It's only wish was to populate the world with lesser races of it's own make. It simply has a taste for the imaginative, I'd say."

Iruv'Tak's vision flashed white again, and a new place appeared. A primitive village dotted a treeline landscape, while a tree of epic proportions stood tall in the distance.

"Night Elves... In the very beginning stages of civilization. They look oddly different from their kin of today." He heard Nozdormu whisper.

" _I took a template from another race from a distant galaxy and created and molded them to the very image I wished them to be. You know the Elvenkind as Eldar, Daemon Prince._ "

"Taste for the imaginative my boot." Iruv'Tak said.

" _I did the same with the Orks, as well. The planet of Draenor seemed perfect for their love of wanton destruction._ _The Ogryn are trolls, the daemons are daemons._ _It was all quite ingenious, actually._ "

"What of the Old Gods?" The Bronze Aspect's curious voice said.

Tzeentch was quiet for a moment as he thought.

" _They are shards of a once great power, a power that could have threatened my own once upon a time. Now they are shattered and spread across the many planes by one who I lead onto a path that would suit my own plans._ "

"What great power?"

" _What is it to you, worm_?" Tzeentch sneered.

"I wish to know how to best fight them!" Nozdormu snapped back. He sounded more and more unsure of himself by the second.

" _That will be left up to my servant, the Daemon Prince Iruv'Tak. Perhaps we can strike a deal?"_

"And live to regret it forever? Do you think me mad!?"

" _You will be, in time_."

If dragons could pale, Nozdormu definitely did.

"What of the titans, my lord?" Iruv'Tak interrupted.

Tzeentch cackled. " _Do you know that human saying? The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away_."

Another flash of white and Iruv'Tak found himself back in reality once more.

"Release me, fiend." Nozdormu snarled. The Bronze Aspect was still feisty, but had lost much of his initial hostility which was replaced by fear and paranoia.

" _As you wish_." A snap was heard, and Nozdormu vanished.

" _He is now on the track to insanity. Just as planned, of course. As for you, Sorcerer, DO NOT interrupt me again when I am in the middle of intimidating my enemies._ " Iruv'Tak felt a sharp pain in his mind, and he could feel his own daemonic blood pouring out of his eyes.

There was the Tzeentch he knew.

" _I have many plans for this world. You are to spread the cult's influence as fast as possible. You have many enemies, and they will not wait on you to prepare. I have brought you an advisor, as well as someone who will report back to me to keep track on your progress. Even if you do not take his advice, it was great fun playing with that Greater Daemon of Khorne that held his soul. He will not be taking a corporeal form. He shall whisper to you from the Void where he is contained. You know the cost of failure. Good day._ " The presence of Tzeentch (and the pain in his head) retreated, replaced with a new one.

It was a presence Iruv'Tak knew well. They had spread Tzeentch's influence together far and wide until he had turned on Iruv'Tak and made away with a powerful artifact that they had recovered.

"I honestly didn't expect to see you again, Sindri."

* * *

 **I have many, many, many excuses!**

 **First: School started back up for me (even though as a homeschooler I never stopped school, more like started up MORE school), I was contemplating this chapter HEAVILY, I had just posted a new book, I decided to to take down Delver (because, as my first fanfiction it's terrible), and my computer exploded. Yes, exploded. After all these seven years, my gaming rig that I had kept up and updated constantly finally got struck by lightning which had travelled THROUGH THE ROUTER, THE MODEM, and all the way to my computer! Did it hurt the router or modem? Nope!**

 **Expect me to be a little slow :P I just bought ARMA III and I'm eager to try it out! I love being a noob to games! I'm also VERY, VERY afraid I put far too many OC's in this chapter than I should have. I tried so DESPERATELY to keep Nozdormu and Tzeentch In character! Tell me if I did something wrong, and IT SHALL BE REMEDIED!**

 **Mike: I can say with certainty there will be no Predator tanks, because that would be OP. However, (SPOILER ALERT) there WILL be Dreadnoughts! (END OF SPOILER ALERT) As for CSM's, he DOES have Rubicae, and will probably get more.**

 **aregulargamer: SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINDRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII**

 **Skepsis Forever: I'd love to point you out especially. You've been here since the beginning and have given me lots of constructive criticism as to where I should guide this story. Now that almost everyone knows about Iruv'Tak, he's gonna have to take on Aspects, the Light, Elune, Titans, Old Gods, and more if he wants to take control of Azeroth eventually! Oh yea, and the Scourge. Things will be going wrong, and since dozens of people will be fighting his every move on dozens of fronts, he cant be everywhere at once to just finish off whoever attacks him. His cult is no longer in a fledgling state, but it;s not full blown either.**

 **And I think that's it! If you want something to be put into the story or remedied, just tell me! Just trying to make sure there's no "DA HECK, WHY DID THAT HAPPEN THAT MAKES NO SENSE"**

 _ **Mind if I roll need for reviews? REVIEW FOR THE REVIEW THRONE!**_

 **-Yours in writing, SyntheticLegion.  
**


	11. Chapter 11: Lex Rex

**Sindri talking via telepathy:** _*Insert Text Here*_

* * *

 _*It has been quite some time, no? I am eager to feast my eyes on this world... Through your own, of course.*_

 _"Your presence is noted. While I have no like for you, perhaps you could be of some use."_

 _*Come now, don't insult me.*  
_

Iruv'Tak ignored him as time and reality slowly recovered from the influences of Nozdormu and Tzeentch. As if rehearsed, the cultists began to bow in reverence. He turned to Autumnwalker and the Kirin Tor.

"I made a grave mistake in preventing the taint from corrupting you, Autumnwalker. I had several opportunities to dominate you completely, but I refrained. Is this how you repay me? Your soul belongs to _me_. The Blood Elves shall soon learn of their new ruler. Do you feel it? The pull, the chains? Your Sunwell has returned to you. Let it wash over you, let it drag you down. In the end, you will all bend. The difference is between those whose backs will be broken, and those who will rise again with a greater purpose."

Iruv'Tak could feel their willpower draining, and the Kirin Tor began to collapse as if some great weight was crushing them.

"Is this the best this plane has to offer?" He taunted. "You limit yourselves to the arcane and the elemental. You don't see just how much your leaders limit you. They're afraid of what you can do." His voice went from mocking to tempting in mere seconds. "There is so much I could show you, so much I could teach you. Give in. Give in to _Chaos_."

The Kirin Tor each rose with single-minded purpose, their minds completely and utterly enslaved to Iruv'Tak's will. But still, Lyanni and Aethas resisted.

"You continue to amaze me with you determination. Or is it gall? No matter. You are but two Blood Elves. Irrelevant, tiny dots on the surface of this world. It amuses me that you always seem to end up a part of my plan, a puppet under my control, whether you wish it or not. I could bend you to my will right now, a slave forever. No, I wish for you to suffer and see the eventual destruction of everything you know and be completely helpless to stop it. Go and spread word of my coming. Tell your leaders that the end of their kingdoms is at hand."

They teleported out simultaneously as soon as the mental pressure had abated.

* _You didn't need to let them both go.*_

" _Don't presume to question me._ "

The sky was a sickly purplish red, still reeling from the birth of a Daemon Prince. The ground surrounding the Sunwell was littered with bodies, both cultist and untainted alike. Scorch marks in the pattern of an eight pointed star decorated the plaza.

"Redstar." The Cultist looked up as his name was called. "Scavenge any items of use and then burn the corpses." The Elf nodded and began to direct elves to their duties. "Cultists Aelemara, Scryer Darkfall, Draveth, and Winten! Come forth." The four knelt before him in honest humility. "For your service and loyalty to me, I reward you with recognition. You are to be my Lieutenants in the city of Silvermoon. Take these as tokens of my appreciation." The garments they wore had been replaced with robes of purple and red. The collar was laced with an Elven Gold, and hoods with the eight pointed star covered their heads. Double pronged staves appeared in their hands, very similar to the staff of a Sorcerer. "Let these be badges of both honor and power in the sight of all your brethren. Now go, construct shrines in my name and spread them throughout Silvermoon. Show the unconverted the folly of their ways."

The cultists nodded in silent gratitude and stood to carry out his bidding.

Iruv'Tak gazed upon his hulking form. It was truly intimidating, but in his present situation rather insensible. He gathered his power and manifested into a more useful body. It was a carbon copy of the one he had but a few moments ago.

* _Your ascension is complete. However, I would assume this city is not yet fully under the influence of chaos. You ought to remedy that._ *

" _Indeed. I had originally planned to gather as many followers as I could before I left the city and founded my own encampment. But with the Sunwell under my control, my form truly daemon, and the Blood Angel threat vanquished, my plans have changed._ " Iruv'Tak turned his gaze to the Elven Palace. He could feel the minds of the less powerful Blood Elves losing control of their minds and slowly succumbing to chaos. He could feel the legions of Wretched basking in the power the Chaos tainted Sunwell was granting them, their resolve having crumbled instantly. He exerted his influence over them easily and willed that they gather together into a single fighting force.

" _This city is mine, and mine alone._ "

* * *

Jaina anxiously awaited the return of the Kirin Tor. Nozdormu had left in such a hurry, she was fearing the worst had happened.

Her office door slammed open, causing her to jump in her chair.

"Two Blood Elves to see you, Lady Jaina. Something about a Silvermoon situation." A Kirin Tor said.

"I'll see them." She braced herself for bad news as the mage ushered in two forlorn elves, one she recognized as Sunreaver, and closed the door as he left. "News?"

The female was the first to speak. "I am Lyanni Autumnwalker. You sent a group of Kirin Tor to aid me and Sunreaver in the... assassination... of the Sorcerer that mysteriously appeared about a week ago. The attempt failed, and the Kirin Tor's minds were somehow enslaved to the Sorcerer's will. He let us escape so we could bring the news to you, but even now we feel the effects of the Sunwell pulling on our minds. I'm afraid we won't be of much use in this state."

Jaina's heart felt a sharp stabbing pain. Those men and women she had sent to die... "Wait. You mentioned the Sunwell."

Aethas Sunreaver spoke next. "The Sorcerer has somehow restored the Sunwell. Unfortunately, his unearthly presence taints it, perpetually pulling on our minds. I can only imagine the number of our brothers and sisters that have fallen under his control."

"This is grave news indeed. Make yourself at home in Dalaran, I must speak with our allies. If we're going to face a threat of this magnitude, we won't face it alone."

* * *

Iruv'Tak's footsteps echoed throughout the empty hallways of the Elven Palace. He strode into the Throne room with grim purpose, and uttered a single phrase:

"Regent Theron, your time as ruler of this kingdom has come to an end." He channeled a fork of lightning through his hands and sent it screaming at the Blood Elf in question.

* * *

 **I'm not dead!? I'm not dead!**

 **Real Life is my worst enemy, and I haven't finished battling it yet either. I'm studying and working to become an electric engineer, and I just found a really slow week and thought "You know what? I've got all this extra time, I should go tell all my readers I'm not dead!"**

 **But yea, updating will be veeery slooow.**

 **Review Responses:**

 **Mike: Maybe. Not sure yet.**

 **Your Lord and Savior: SIIIINDRIIIII**

 **Ulquiorra9900: Thanks :)**

 **Moving on, it looks like Iruv'Tak's about to start showing Azeroth who actually runs this joint, amirite? I had originally planned to let Iruv'Tak gather a few hundred followers and then flee, but the Sunwell idea was 3good5me.**

 _ **Reviews for the Review Throne!**_

 **-SyntheticLegion**


	12. Chapter 12: Ulterior Ultimatum

**Three days after the restoration of the Sunwell.**

Divination is a tricky thing. The Warp will show dozens of futures, and it's up to the diviner to determine which one is the correct outcome. Iruv'Tak sat in a throne on an upraised platform that allowed him to survey the entirety of the room. But he was not interested in the comings and goings of his servants. What had caught his interest was the multiple futures he was cycling through. By process of elimination he tried to determine the movements of his enemies. One showed a flock of gryphons descending on Silvermoon and attacking his forces, but it was out of the question. One necessary skill you needed in order to be adept at divining was determining what was out of place. In this future, the entirety of Silvermoon was occupied by Humans, rather than Blood Elves. He threw that future back to the Warp and was about to conjure a new one when he heard a voice.

"My lord, I have the reports you requested."

He altered the way his eyes perceived the universe back to the material realm. Redstar was on one knee before his throne.

"Rise, servant. Tell me, what news do you bring?"

"Your legions swell with the ranks of the faithful. Every man, woman, and child is being trained in the ways of Chaos. Those with magical and psychic prowess are given enchanted staves and taught Chaos Sorcery. While the Wretched mobs lack in psykers and mages, they make adept... berserkers. Shrines raised in your name have thralls tending to them on a regular basis."

"Excellent. And what of those who resist?"

"There are a few garrisons that are holding out in the Eastern Quarter, but they are trickling into the abandoned part of Silvermoon as we gain ground. Captured or wounded heathens are turned into thralls for rituals and the tending of shrines. Their souls are used to summon lesser daemons to grow your ranks. Chaos is truly marvelous, we have no need for petty logistics and upkeep. Food and drink, while enjoyable, have become something of a luxury rather than a requirement to the masses. You and your powers sustain us." The truth showed itself in Redstar's own face. Prior to the restoration of the Sunwell, he had not aged well. Now however, he looked younger, full of vigor, while a few scars on his face seemed to have faded somewhat.

"As it should be. Your news pleases me, Redstar. Go with my blessing." Iruv'Tak waved his hand to dismiss Redstar, who bowed and left.

* _I must admire your work further, Iruv'Tak. You are still somewhat lax towards your followers, but you have instilled loyalty rather than fear. I think to them you are more of an angel than a daemon._ *

" _Take lessons, Sindri. You might learn something._ "

His mind drifted from the conversation with Sindri to his future plans. His long term goals were obvious: The wholesome and utter domination of all life on Azeroth. But where to go from here? Silvermoon was rapidly being conquered by his forces, the majority of all the Blood Elves in the city were under his total control, and he had achieved Daemonhood. Where should he strike next? Dalaran? No, the Kirin Tor were both powerful and numerous. Nay, he was not ready to start another conquest after just finishing one. It would be best he wipe out resistance to his rule first and then establish his borders. Silvermoon was his, but there were many other Blood Elf fortresses, villages, and towns that needed his attention.

His eyes snapped to the door, which had just opened. A blood elf wearing the robes of a lieutenant stepped into the hall.

"You may approach." Iruv'Tak's voice echoed along the stone walls.

As the elf drew nearer, he could see that they had taken the leisure of customizing the robes, various arcane sigils woven into the fabric. A veil completely covered the face so that Iruv'Tak could not see past with his regular vision. The elf knelt before him at the throne.

"Which of my lieutenants are you, servant?"

"I am Scryer Darkfall, my lord."

"Ah. We have spoken very little. Rise, tell me what it is that you require of me."

As she rose, she took out a tome from within her robe. "After completing the tasks set before me on the day of your glorious ascension, I had pondered the nature and attributes of the new Sunwell, as I am wont to do with many things. For the past two days I have studied it and have come across some findings that may interest you."

Iruv'Tak smiled inwardly. He appreciated followers who took initiative. "Pray tell, what did you find?"

The Scryer flipped through the pages of the tome. "I've determined that it is bound to you. There is some kind of ethereal bond between you, the Sunwell, and in turn us. I traveled out of Silvermoon and then back again, trying out my newly found psyker abilities in different places. The closer a Blood Elf is with the Sunwell or you, the stronger their bond, and in turn, the more powerful they are. Therefore, it is reasonable to believe that a Blood Elf that is distant from you or the Sunwell may be unaffected by Chaos."

"These... bonds you speak of. Is their nature of the Warp?"

"Yes."

"So I could travel through the warp, follow the bonds, and find the geographical location of every single Blood Elf?"

"...Yes, that should be possible."

"That is a most helpful find. I appreciate this, Scryer Darkfall. If that is all, you may leave."

She turned to depart, but then looked back at Iruv'Tak after a moments hesitation.

"My lord, there is but one more thing."

"Yes?"

She continued to hesitate. "The bonds. I am unsure if you were aware of this, but they have some sort of mental influence over the Blood Elves. It would allow for control over many of our minds."

Iruv'Tak frowned. "Yes, I know of the bonds. I created them during the restoration of the Sunwell."

The Scryer fiddled with the tome she held in her hands as she looked up at him from behind the veil. "But... Why?"

Iruv'Tak hissed inwardly. Questioning his motives, was she? It would not do to have another Lyanni on his hands.

She immediately noticed his displeasure, though he did not voice it. "If the question offends you in any way, my lord, I-"

He raised a hand to silence her, carefully seeking an easy way to approach this.

* _I've been studying her, going through her mind. The best way to exploit her would be from a paternal angle. She was abandoned at a young age._ *

He rose from the throne slowly and she took a step back. With one hand, Iruv'Tak lifted the cowl and looked her in the eye. "Child, think of your brothers and sisters out battling those who resist the cure for their addiction. The bonds mental influence weakens the heathen and strengthens the faithful. I am saving lives doing this."

He could sense the pulling of her emotional strings as she nodded. "I understand. It was a foolish question, I should have put more thought into it."

"Questions are how we learn. Simply remember this lesson. I am here for your betterment, my motives and my actions can only help. Remember this lesson, or you will repeat this mistake, and I will be disappointed."

The idea of disappointing the person who had restored the Sunwell and taken her and several others as his apprentices was unbearable. She raised the cowl over her face once more, bowed, and left.

* _Masterfully done. Her loyalty is assured._ *

" _She is a good servant. I could always dominate her mind, but that would result in a major lowering in productivity and efficiency._ "

Now, where was he? Ah, yes. Divining the future.

* * *

 **Yep, not dead! I really enjoyed writing this chapter. It showed the cruelness of Iruv'Tak, playing on people's emotions to achieve his goals. He is a servant of Tzeentch, an ascended Thousand Son. It's in his very nature to exploit others' weaknesses and leave them behind as naught but a means to an end. With him, you're only alive and in one piece so long as you have a use. There is a perfect power ratio that must be had for you to retain usefulness. Too powerful, and you become a threat. Too weak, and you may as well be a thrall.**

 **I feel that over the course of this long hiatus we had/are having, my writing has greatly improved. More emotion, and much more fluidity.**

 **Thus ends Chapter 12: Ulterior Ultimatum.**

 _ **REVIEWS FOR THE REVIEW THRONE!**_


	13. Chapter 13: Pax Imperia

Iruv'Tak growled in frustration. Divination was, certainly, the most difficult power to manipulate. Even with his heightened power and mastery, the future was just as elusive as ever. He briefly pondered the concept of Tzeentch actively interfering with his divination, if only to make things more difficult for him. Just as well: it would make victory all that sweeter. He had only been able to catch glimpses of the true future, but even those were impossible to understand. Perhaps it was not just Tzeentch, but also the Bronze Dragonflight? Would their ability to alter timelines conflict with his ability to see them? A reasonable theory, but not one confirmed... Perhaps if he could acquire a sample...

No. He would not risk open war with the Bronze Dragonflight quite yet: that was definitive suicide. He was already on a teetering edge with Nozdormu, becoming openly hostile with them would not further his agenda. His goals should be to recuperate and consolidate his power until his full strength was revealed. War with any kingdom would spell the end for his short reign. All that was left to do was to unite the provinces under his firm rule.

He laid his hands on his staff, gliding his hand over the intricate markings. The weapon had served him for hundreds of years... It was the only thing that had truly remained faithful to him over the ages. When living in the service of Tzeentch, finding someone or something you could rely on was exceedingly difficult. You could trust no one, not even yourself. Your body might transform into warp-spawn, or your mind might be under the influence of another. On the other hand, it had made him a precariously paranoid person, an attribute that had kept him alive, time and time again.

Unfortunately, his weapon could no longer serve him as well as in previous eras. Most of the sigils etched upon it were worthless: the warp was far different here. The wear and tear had taken it's toll, and not even his sorcery could prevent the entropy that Chaos brought to all objects imbued with it. No, a replacement was long due. He would have to get something new crafted in the forges.

 _*Iruv'Tak, there is something that must be brought to your immediate attention.*_

"What is it? Speak quickly, I have little time for idle chatter."

 _*I bring word from Tzeentch. His open interference has caught the eye of the other three. Khorne, as it stands, is preparing to dispatch a band of warriors to Azeroth. You have time to prepare: Khorne has to prepare the ritual first, and even then, it will take time for them to arrive. Many will fall to the terrors within the warp, and the band they are sending is small in comparison as it is. Perhaps we can use this to our advantage.*_

"Indeed... If we distract the other races by pointing them at a foe that has little care for anything but slaughter, they will set their priorities accordingly."

 _*Keep in mind however, Khorne is only the first. Nurgle and Slaanesh will follow, and the latter will be far more of an enemy. The Prince of Pleasure is sly, and does not act openly. It's not something the other races will immediately take notice of and, in turn, exterminate. Our lord Tzeentch says that he will interfere with their movements as much as possible without endangering his position.*_

"Understood. I shall make preparations at once." On the plus side, he now knew what the future held somewhat. Khorne's influence would be the easiest to remove, but Slaanesh would by far be the most difficult. Playing on the inhumane torture that the followers of Slaanesh engaged in would be his best bet to victory.

Iruv'Tak channeled energy through his staff, before teleporting a short distance outside the Palace to the Guild Hall, where Redstar resided.

"Redstar!" The Sorcerer's voice bellowed across the room.

The elf dashed up the stairs from the basement in a hurry. "My lord! You need not come to find me, simply summ-"

"Silence." Iruv'Tak raised his hand in dismissal. "We have no time. Prepare the forges and the armies for war, we must reclaim the lands surrounding the capital. Some will welcome us with open arms, others will actively resist. Regardless, soon all will recognize my sovereignty. A foe is coming that we must be united to face. I must speak with the leaders of the other races and get them on our side."

"Are you sure that's wise?"

"What course of action would be better suited?"

"Nothing comes to mind. I shall consolidate your forces and then complete the conquest of Silvermoon. From there, I shall form an expedition to capture the province fully. The forges will enter overtime."

"Excellent. I shall return soon." Iruv'Tak channeled once again, before transporting himself high atop the Palace, to the tower aeries. "Stablemaster! I require a dragonhawk."

* * *

Flying in Azeroth was, bluntly put, boring to Iruv'Tak. The scenery was nice, but the thought of Khorne's forces being capable of arriving on Azeroth at any given moment was... disconcerting. It had taken a few days to travel from Silvermoon to Kalimdor, utilizing teleportation whenever possible. Redstar had protested vehemently concerning speaking with the Night Elves, saying that the "tree huggers were a waste of time" and "would never accept our ways". It had taken precious time to knock the racial stigma aside. True, many of the Blood Elves were not keen on Iruv'Tak speaking with the Night Elves. They frowned upon magic, had a natural inclination to hate Blood Elves, and were infuriatingly defensive concerning nature. In a way, however, they would be the easiest to convince. Word had not yet spread of Iruv'Tak's coup d'etat. Being able to illuminate them on his own terms would give him an advantage: better he than some naysayer. He wasn't a Blood Elf, nor did he use Fel or Arcane magics. At the same time, he wasn't exactly... natural, by Night Elven standards. Getting them on his side would grant him leverage with the other races. Night Elves were influential, the oldest living race on the entirety of Azeroth. They had seen, and would see, more than any other existing race today. To the others, they were advisors with wisdom beyond measure. The current ruler, Tyrande Whisperwind, was said to be open-minded.

He was shaken from his thoughts as the dragonhawk landed on the grounds outside the Gates of Darnassus. Iruv'Tak dismounted and sent the beat on it's way. It would not do to have the signature Blood Elven mount paraded through the streets of the Night Elves. He approached the gate, a structure standing strong atop the lofty branches of Teldrassil. A voice called out from above.

"You there! State your name and business in Darnassus."

It gave him an odd sense of deja vu, somewhat reminiscent of when he had first strode into Silvermoon. Things would be a bit different this time, however.

"I am Iruv'Tak Nador, Prince of Silvermoon and Lord Sorcerer over the Blood Elven lands. I have come to speak with your leader, and I bring grave news." Yes. This time would be very, very different. It would be difficult, but gaining the trust of the Night Elves...

It would be paramount.

* * *

 **\\[T]/ Praise the Sun!** **Saw Warcraft: The Beginning yesterday and thought I would give you all another chapter! I've been thinking on where I want to bring this story, and I think I have a good sense of direction so far. I've got more time and more drive! Chapters should be arriving swiftly over the Summer, and I'm BEYOND excited. However, I'd like to clear some things up:**

 **Iruv'Tak is NOT aiming to corrupt the Night Elves at present. He's trying to gain their backing against the inevitable confrontation with the Kirin Tor and the other Dark Powers. Anyhow, on to the Reviews!**

 **justreidabook: He's... uh, uh, uh... over there! - (Insert Without Remorse Here)**

 **Fractious Day: I hope this clears some things up! I mentioned my dislike for how I handled the situation with Lyanni earlier, and sought to remove her from the equation for a short while until I could develop her character somewhat. I have no thoughts on Dalaran at present. My thanks for the feedback.**

 **Skepsis Forever: I appreciate the encouragement. Iruv'Tak really is quite the manipulator, weaving truth in with his words. After all, the most believable of lies are the ones with grains of truth in them. As for lore, you probably know more than I do! I confess, I haven't even PLAYED WOW/Warcraft beyond the demo. I've soaked in as much lore as I can, though. It's truly a story-rich universe.**

 **As I said, chapters should be arriving swiftly. How'd you all like the Warcraft movie? I think it might have broken the Game Movie Curse! I'm giving an 8/10 as a standalone movie. I wish they would have used more of the original game soundtracks, but the musician behind the new tracks are still amazing! I was listening to the main theme while writing this chapter, in fact. Also, I beat Dark Souls 3 earlier this month! Truly an amazing game. I'm sad that it's the last in the series ;-;**

 **On a happier note, life is progressing for me! I hope to see you all in the next chapter, and remember:**

 _ **REVIEWS FOR THE REVIEW THRONE!**_

 **-SyntheticLegion, Guardian of the Immaterium**


	14. Chapter 14: Dealing With the Devil

Elven architecture was, in general, impressive. It mattered not if it was Night or Blood Elven. Contrary to popular opinion, Sorcerers of Tzeentch were not always piecing together schemes to topple empires. With the gift of daemonhood, immortality was something to be used to the fullest. As it was, Iruv'Tak was capable of recognizing quality work when he saw it, stopping to observe the intricate details and shapes that comprised the city of Darnassus. He had no doubt that the Night Elf Sentinels were keeping a close eye on him. He was physically abnormal when compared to other races: larger than the elves, but he was by no means an orc or troll. He lacked the obvious movement or form of a Draenai, and compared to humans, his stature was out of the question. As were Gnomes and Dwarves. The Night Elves were most certainly both puzzled and suspicious. Some were sure to draw the conclusions of him being a demon.

They wouldn't be entirely wrong.

His request to speak with the High Priestess was being processed. He had been told (rather gruffly) to remain in the city of Darnassus until a time was reached when he could meet with the ruling body of the Night Elves. He wasn't entirely sure how long it would take: he was hoping to be able to return in time for the reclamation of the Blood Elven provinces. The Night Elves might not let him go immediately, if at all. He wasn't too keen on having to break himself out, but if worst came to worst...

There was nothing they could do, really. He wasn't sure just how different in magnitudes the Night Elven powers were when compared to Blood Elven ones, but considering the Blood Elves' weakened states, it was probably a sizable difference. Regardless, they had no reliable method of containing a Daemon Prince.

Whatever the case, his entire plan hinged on _not_ incurring their wrath. For the time being, it would be best if he abided by all standing rules and policies.

* * *

The High Priestess of Elune, Tyrande Whisperwind, stood upon a balcony overlooking a large portion of Darnassus. Decades of experience were telling her to send the Blood Elven representative back to Quel'Thalas without giving an audience. The Blood Elves were a foolish and naive people that played with powers beyond their own understanding. Of course, there was the odd sindorei that could be given respect, but they were the exception: not the rule.

Regardless, diplomatic tensions were high, and that was never good for the peoples of Azeroth. The world had years ahead before it would recover from the wrath of the Lich King. It would be better if the stigma between the many races could be subdued, and a mutual understanding gathered. From what she was told, the representative wasn't even a Blood Elf.

An unknown. That would not do.

"Latryssa." She called out.

"Milady?" The Sentinel responded.

"Have the Blood Elven Representative brought to the Audience Chamber. If the meeting over-extends into other going-ons, put them on hold as is appropriate."

"Yes, milady."

* * *

Iruv'Tak did not sit in the chair they had provided him. It was much too small and fragile for his bulk, shapeshifted or not. Instead, he chose to stand. His staff clanged on the wooden floor, resounding through the chamber from one end to another and he set it down.

A male night elf draped in wealthy garb called out to him. "State your name and title, if any." The no-nonsense tone was easily discernible.

"Iruv'Tak Nador," he paused for a moment, considering his options, "Lord Sorcerer of Silvermoon City and the surrounding Blood Elven provinces."

Another spoke. "Lord Sorcerer, define this title."

Iruv'Tak sighed audibly. "Monarch, ruler, king."

If the Night Elves weren't expecting that, they didn't show it.

"Very well. This meeting is called to order on the fifteenth day of Spring, to discuss..." He raised his eyebrows at Iruv'Tak.

"Diplomatic tension relief and... possible threats to _both_ our kingdoms."

"I see. You have the floor, Lord Sorcerer, and may begin when ready."

Iruv'Tak cleared his mind before he spoke.

"In order to understand why I'm here, you're going to need a little backstory and an update on the going-on's in Silvermoon. I will not attempt to delude you or myself, however much we may wish the opposite. The Lich King struck a mortal blow to the Blood Elves. A people, an entire race, are going extinct. Their civilization is falling to ruin, our cities to disuse. Over half of Silvermoon City alone is completely unoccupied excepting a few insurgents."

He paused to take in their reactions before proceeding. Very little, except for the slight wrinkling of ones forehead at the words 'insurgents'.

"I have been appointed their ruler. I have brought them from the brink, but they cannot sustain themselves for long, not as they are now. There is no law, there is no order. The entirety of the governmental infrastructure has been shattered, and there is only so much one man can do. You understand what the eventual results would be."

The High Priestess spoke. "The stagnation of a culture. Or worse..."

Iruv'Tak finished. "Desperation. Tell me, High Priestess. What happens when you corner a wounded, wild sabertooth?"

Her eyes focused on him, deep with concentration. "It becomes far more deadly, resorting to measures and tactics that are infinitely more brutal than... I see where you're going with this."

"We'll finish this line of thought, then. Consider the Blood Elven people as a wounded sabertooth. Seemingly surrounded by enemies on all sides, the hostile Alliance, the distrustful Horde, and the savage Scourge. With extinction on their doorstep, to whom do the Blood Elves have left to turn?"

"The Burning Legion." Another Night Elf official spat.

Just as planned. "Precisely. I'm sure you now understand the blatantly _dire_ predicament Azeroth is in, not just the sindorei."

The High Priestess looked thoughtful. "What would you have us do?"

"I require little. Send out a message to each and every Night Elf city. Silvermoon City has issued a total recall of _all_ Blood Elves on Azeroth."

As he spoke, Iruv'Tak reached out mentally to test the mental shielding of the High Priestess. Surely it couldn't be all that much for him, a Daemon Prince, to infiltrate, right?

Wrong. He nearly collided face first with mental barriers the strength of which he had never seen before. It would be impossible for him to even _attempt_ to progress further! But how did she have such strong mental shielding? He broke out of his thoughts to the sound of another official speaking.

"We will consider it. What else?"

"After the Lich King pillaged Silvermoon and the body count began to rise, something very important came to mind. What do we do with all of this extra farmland?"

The Night Elves did not seem to pick up the hint. "Explain."

"Blood Elven stock piles and granaries have reached a bursting point. We have an abundance of resources we no longer need." Not exactly a lie, with the restoration of the Sunwell and it's... peculiar new Warp characteristics the Blood Elves that had given in to the corruption no longer needed such sustenance (though it was certainly a pleasure to enjoy).

The same Night Elf spoke again. "I thought the Scourge razed the farmland and put the granaries to the torch. My contacts keep me very well informed."

"Tell your contacts to cut down on the alcohol consumption, then. I'm fairly certain I know the state of my own kingdom."

The Elf bristled at the words. That may have been too far...

Before any further problems arose, the High Priestess spoke again. "Continue, Lord Sorcerer."

"My intents are simple. The sindorei would like to make a donation to the Alliance as a whole to help those in need and dissolve diplomatic tensions."

Her mouth curved into a small smile. "That is something quite out of character for the Blood Elves."

Iruv'Tak pushed the conversation forward while he still had momentum. "Can this be arranged?"

"We'll take it into consideration. Any further matters?"

"Yes, one. High Priestess, I feel you are the only one that should hear what I have to say."

The intelligence officer scoffed. "Preposterous. I don't even know why we're listening to you anymore as it is."

"Save your breath, Hytalus." She paused. "Everyone leave the room, I shall comply with his request."

Immediately, there were cries of disbelief and even anger.

"Did I not say to leave? Or do you disobey the command of Elune's appointed?"

The group settled, and began to shuffle out with partial grumblings.

"That means you too." The High Priestess pointed to the Honor Guard Regimen.

"But my lady, it is our sworn duty to protect you at all times!"

"Elune protects me. Leave."

The detachment nodded and stepped outside the room.

"Now we can speak privately. Make it quick, I do not wish to keep the court waiting."

Iruv'Tak gathered his thoughts. Elune... No! Focus.

"There is a great enemy at our doorstep, and I do not mean only the Burning Legion. A foe far worse comes, with the power to wage a war you cannot win on your own. The forces of Chaos are making an imminent arrival on Azeroth. Servants of the long forgotten gods, Khorne, Nurgle, and Slaanesh."

"Say there is a force worse than the Burning Legion, how would you know of it's existence and it's arrival?"

Think, think quick! That's it! "Pray tell, do you recall that... dare I say, _sundering_ of the world itself only a few weeks back?" His daemonic rebirth... Yes, an excellent diversion.

She hesitated. "Yes, yes I do..."

"That was the arrival of Chaos on your world. You must prepare. It was not arcane, nor druidic, nor even Fel."

She was silent for a time. "If these forces of... Chaos... show themselves, we will discuss this further. Until such time, I cannot make any finalized decisions. If they come to destroy us, they will find our hearts far more than prepared for whatever they can throw at us."

Iruv'Tak turned to look at her, the purple hue in his eyes locking with her green. "Destroy? No... There are some fates far worse than death."

* * *

 **I have so much excess inspiration right now, I think I may actually be causing myself some kind of bodily harm. I so badly need to put some ideas I have down into writing, but I would feel _so_ guilty because I haven't really even BEGUN working on getting the plot of "We Are Legion" rolling, and I'm only beginning the second story arc to "Immaterium Interference".**

 **BUT THE INSPIRATION, IT CALLS TO ME! Agh, 1st World Problems. I need help, what do I do? Do I put this inspiration into writing? Or do I try and lock it away for a later date in the hopes that it will remain?**

 **Choices choices... On to the reviews!**

 **tamagat: He's now higher in the food chain. Not exactly the right hand man of Tzeentch, but certainly a notable servant. Not an Ahriman per say, but Chaos can be finicky with it's power scalings.**

 **Aburg76: No problem :D Hope this one satisfies. I'm rather pleased with it myself.**


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